The Typical Problems of one Francis Bonnefoy
by deactivated111
Summary: Soon after starting at HetaWorld Academy, rooming with Gilbert and Antonio and trying to woo a Brit he definately has feelings for, but at the same time can't seem to stand, fill Francis's life, along with a little match-making and general awesomeness on the side. Francis's first year is filled with love, lust, friendship, and maybe even a little self discovery. FrUK.High school!AU
1. Of Almost-Kisses and Stubborn Brits

**Hello, and welcome to this, Madame YaoiPervert69's first posted story! _And of course it's a high school AU because I fucking wanted to, problem? _Probably not the best way to introduce myself... Ah well, as they say, fuck it! Before we start, I just want to say that I LOVE FrUK. I ship the shit out of this pairing. Onto the story! Commence with it! **

**Warning : If I owned Hetalia, it would be rated a lot more then just MA... _if you know what I mean. ;) _**

* * *

HetaWorld Academy was an amazing example of higher learning. A school for the artistically gifted, it was a sprawling estate with a lush, rich courtyard. Tables and chairs made of stone and marble decorated the courtyard in even, precise rows. The grass was a perfectly trimmed, bright, springtime green. Parallel hedges outlined a cobblestone path that led to the estate itself. It was an old, yet perfectly kept mansion with just the right touch of 1800's architecture. The mansion itself was huge, housing classrooms and dorms and art rooms and just about everything. Lucky students lived inside the mansion. Lucky or rich, that was. The unlucky students lived in small, one floor houses around the estate, and had to walk to school. Although, these so called 'unlucky' students homes away from home were beautifully furnished, and were just the right mix of modern and classic. The rooms inside were even more lavish, but really, no matter where you were, the only downside you might have was having to wake up earlier and walk to class. But to many students, artists, the walk was a pleasant one. Yes, HetaWorld Academy was quite the prestigious high school, and could only be described as _perfect. _

Francis Bonnefoy was an amazing example of male human. He was tall and lean, with slight muscles. His blue plaid pants seemed to hang off his hips perfectly. The white dress shirt with two buttons undone showed the skin of his collarbone and hung off while clinging to all the right places. The undone navy blue jacket just completed what could only be described as _the look. _His shoulder length, slightly wavy golden locks were pulled in an effortless, quick ponytail, some strands falling loose. And those eyes. He had stunning, gorgeous blue eyes that could only be compared to the pure, azure blue of the ocean. The rest of his features were just as stunning, down to his soft lips.

Slinging his guitar across his shoulder, Francis walked up the path leading to the academy, headphones slung around his neck. It only took him about five minutes to wind up completely and hopelessly lost. Leaning his forehead against a wall, he ran a hand through his hair, undoing even more of the loose ponytail and cursing the mansion silently. It was so damn _cliché! _First day of new school, lost. A tap on his shoulder followed by a deliberate cough pulled him out of his thoughts. Turning around, he found himself face to face with a shorter boy with messy blonde hair and stunning emerald eyes. And large, bushy eyebrows. A quite _attractive _messy haired, bushy eye browed, emerald eyed boy.

"Lost?" The teen had a clear British accent. Grinning, Francis didn't miss a beat before responding "Oui." At the French response, the British teen scowled, friendly half-smile disappearing. Nevertheless, the boy grabbed Francis arm and began to drag him. Startled, yet pleased despite himself, Francis followed the boy.

"Not that I mind a cute boy dragging me, may I ask why?" Said boy blushed an adorable (in Francis's opinion) pink, scowling deeper.

"Don't be such a git. I'm showing you to your next class." Francis's smile only grew, and he heard the Brit mumble something about _not being bloody cute you frog._

"I can't help but think that was just an excuse to hold my hand, I didn't tell you my class." Almost immediately, the Brit released him, and turned a deeper red. Without turning to face him, he scowled deeper (_at this point, was that even POSSIBLE?)._

"Then where do you need to go, frog?"

"Art class 2B, west wing."

"THAT'S ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE BLOODY SCHOOL YOU WANKER! CAN'T YOU TELL EAST FROM WEST?!" Francis's couldn't help but enjoy the way the Briton's face turned red from either anger or embarrassment or both. There was something so amusing and extreme about the other boy's actions that he just loved.

"_Je desole_, I must've gotten confused. And since you seem confused on what to call me, my name's Francis." He held out a hand, but the British boy merely swatted his hand away.

"As if I care what your bloody name is. Just follow me. It's on the way to my first class." With that Englishman (_I really have to find out his name) _briskly turned on his heel, not bothering to make sure that Francis was following, but attempting not so discreet looks behind him every once in a while. Francis followed along like an obedient (_sexy_) puppy, not quite minding following behind because it gave him a nice view of the other boy's ass, before getting bored. Slipping in his guitar off his shoulders, he leaned it against the wall before sliding up to the Englishman and discreetly slipping his hand through his, intertwining their fingers. The other teen immediately froze and blushed again (_pity, he had just managed to get rid of his last one_). Francis lowered his head to the other teens, lips just barely brushing his ear. The other boy shivered subconsciously, earning a smirk from Francis.

"I never did get your name, _Angleterre_."

"A-Arthur." The Bri- Arthur leaned back slightly, pushing his body closer to Francis. Francis's eyes widened, as did his smile. Wrapping an arm around Arthur he pulled the shorter teen as close to his body as possible. He had started this because he was bored and Arthur had a nice ass, but somehow, now, he just wanted him as close as possible. He wanted to _feel _Arthur, to touch him, he wanted to _know_ Arthur. Maybe it was the way he was pressed up against him, but something about Arthur, and Arthur being this close, made him _want _Arthur.

"_Merci." _Arthur seemed to only half realize what was going on, and took a step back, eyes hazy. Francis followed, taking a step forward. They continued like this until Arthur was pressed with his back against the wall, Francis's arms on either side of his head, palms splayed flat on the wall. Without a word Francis pulled his body close, one arm snaking around Arthur's waist. Arthur's breath hitched, his eyes clouded over slightly. Everything seemed to go in slow motion as Francis lowered his head, his lips just hovering over Arthur's. Then time brutally snapped back into place as Arthur's eyes widened, the haze gone, and he pushed Francis away. Francis stumbled slightly before catching his balance. Arthur, who seemed to finally have control of his own actions, blushed the deepest red yet.

"Wh-what the bloody hell was that frog?" Arthur's voice came out softer than expected, but to be completely honest, Francis had no idea. Absolutely none. What HAD come over him?

"_L'impulsion du moment?_"

"I don't speak bloody frog! Find your own damn way to class." With that Arthur was about to turn on his heel, frown set in place, before Francis caught his arm.

"_Merde! Je desole, _I'm sorry! Just _s'il vous plait _help me find my class."

"Fine frog, but stay the bloody hell away from me."

"_Merci et oui_." Arthur mumbled something about _bloody frogs _and set off again, Francis following at an only_ slightly _less than respectable distance.

* * *

Francis sat in class after Arthur dropped him off, trying to pay attention to the teacher but finding his mind circling back to one person. Arthur. What the hell had come over him? Now, Francis was used to wanting things, wanting _people. _Now, Francis was no stranger to his own sexuality, but he had just met the guy! Even HE knew that it was too soon to want him **this** bad. Because he wanted him _bad. _He wanted his lips, his body, _**him. **_But on another level he wanted to know him, to know the Brit who had screamed at him yet melted into his touch all within the space of a few minutes. He also wanted to know what happened to him. The question still rung in his mind, reverberating off the walls of his head, bouncing back and forth. It seemed like the minute the Brit leaned into him, responded to him, he was overcome by that same, all-consuming want. It was the only thing on his mind, everything else seeming so miniscule compared to the Brit in front of him, pressed against him.

This was so very typical of him. He had come to this school because he wanted to focus on his art and music, and had promised himself that this wouldn't happen. He had promised himself no more crushes, no more _anything _that could distract him from what he loved.

… Promises were made to be broken, _non_? Who said he couldn't multi-task.

* * *

_What the bloody. fucking. hell. was that? _Arthur couldn't concentrate on anything but the memory of what transpired mere minutes ago. What the hell was that Frenchman doing? It was obvious he was a Frenchy, but god, he was so bloody FRENCH! Now, maybe it was the fact that Arthur was a Brit through and through, but he didn't like the French. But for once, that was not the problem. How could he be so _open _with his sexuality?! Arthur had nothing against homosexuals, in fact, that would be quite hypocritical considering he himself was homosexual (he had known this for quite some time), but he didn't believe in flaunting it around for the entire world to see! He had decency! And… that still wasn't the problem. He wasn't as angry with Francis – okay, that was a lie, he was positively LIVID at Francis – as he was with himself. He had just stood there and _allowed _it to go on. He had even responded! He had let Francis control him! And he had _wanted _it. He had desperately wanted it.

And the almost kiss. The bane of every teenager's existence. That moment where Francis's lips had hovered over his, his breath ghosting over his lips, would haunt him. But he wasn't ready to admit to himself that that's what he wanted. He couldn't admit that he had wanted the Frenchman to kiss him, control him. He had more pride than that! And it was too bloody early! He had only been with him a few minutes and suddenly his mind was going in places he did _not _want to go. Absolutely not! And he was going to completely forget the fact that he had approached Francis in the first place because he had such a nice ass. Completely.

… And why the bloody hell was he thinking about the frog with his first name?

* * *

**So how was it? Despite the above almost kiss, this story will NOT go fast. I'm taking my time with this one. :D Now, small things about the story! **

**1) This will be a teenage Love/Lust/Friendship story! I really want to focus on the friendship as well meaning... BAD TOUCH TRIO! FO' 'SHO! Because I .LOVE the BTT. (I also ship the shit out of that threesome) **

**2) That's all I have to say for now. **

**Would you mind leaving a review? Pretty please with a naked France on top? (you can probably tell, but I have a thing for France) :D **

**Much love from the other side, Madame Perv.**

**P.S - Interesting fact, with my friend, I happen to be France, and she's England! ^_^ **

**P.S.S - OH! In case you were wondering, I'm female!**

**Last little note : WOW! Writing an AN is HARD! I hope I shall get used to it and loosen up the more I progress with my writing... _AND YOU CAN HELP! _All you have to do to help this poor writer/yaoi addict in need is leave a little review! So please press that lonely little button! **

**Much love from the other side (for real now), Madame Perv**


	2. The Beginnings of the Infamous BTT

**I FINALLY got off my lazy ass and uploaded chapter 2~! **

**Warning: I... I don't own Hetalia... stop... please... You're gonna make me cry! **

* * *

Three quick, brisk bells signalled the end of Francis's first class. Grabbing his guitar case, he filed out the door, trying not to lose the sketchbook that had appeared on his desk about five minutes into the class he was already ten minutes late for. All the way through his first class that _he really, really should have been paying attention to, _he had thought about Arthur. And maybe, sort-of, covered the first few pages of a brand new notebook full of detailed sketches of Arthur. _Bon Dieu, _this was going too far, he really needed a distraction. This materialized itself in his next class in the form of a cute Italian boy with a bad temper, foul language and hair curl.

"_Bonjour._"

"Can I fucking help you?"

"Actually, _oui." _And thus began Francis's correspondence (via passing notes, texting and quite frequently yelling across the room) with Lovino Romano Vargas, the son of the schools head. He found out that Lovino had all but the first and last class with him. Francis immediately volunteered him to be his guide. Romano had less than graciously accepted. Despite all the insults, Francis genuinely enjoyed Romano's company. The boy was hilarious, always ready with a sarcastic comment.

"I can't believe you bastard! How could you! While you're off having six different relationships with hot French guys, I'm stuck jacking off to gay porn!" Francis's eyes widened at Romano's confession, but he quickly relaxed when Romano did, realizing the joke.

"Pity you weren't serious, that was a nice mental image." Francis was promptly punched in the shoulder.

"Too far wine bastard."'

"_Oui._" Francis had quickly realized Romano would not put up with his shit **at all**. At first he was decked hard, in the jaw. But after two forty minute periods, he had settled with lightly punching him in the shoulder and warning him. Francis would then comply (maybe). It was a system that worked well for the two.

"Well, _où est la cafeteria?_"

"I heard some French word that sounded like cafeteria. Food, thata way!" Francis smirked as Romano dragged him, grumbling about stupid (so mild! _He must really like me!_) new Frenchman and eating late.

* * *

Everyone had lunch in the same room, at the same time. While the mansion may look old, it was only recently built by the school head (Romano's unusually hansom grandfather) for the purpose of teaching hundreds of artistic prodigies. Therefore, the lunch room had been built with that in mind. It was a huge room filled with rows and rows of tables. Of course, when Romano dragged him to get food, there was an array of multi-cultural dishes. Francis's jaw had dropped (causing Romano to laugh in his face), and he had stood there just _looking._ He had arrived in America just a few weeks before today, but he had already developed a sore home-food sickness. He missed his home, yes, but he missed the FOOD. That's why he had grabbed Romano's arm (much like Arthur had dragged his- _NON_! He was not thinking about Arthur. He would not feed this, this, this _obsession_ he had with the boy!), promptly shutting the Italian up, and dragged him to the line.

"What. The. FUCK?! It's not cool when you do it, bastard!" Francis said nothing, merely cocking his head to the side like a (_sexy_) puppy. Romano looked down, mumbling.

"I expect it of others."

"Just like I expect decency of others, _non_?"

"_Si_, just like that bastard, just like that." After grabbing food (beautiful, wonderful, God-given French food for him, pasta with tomato sauce for Romano), Romano led him to a table with a tall, blonde boy and someone who looked a lot like Romano, but with slightly lighter hair.

"This is my _fratello, _Feliciano, and the potato bitch."

"Romano, for the last time, I am male."

"Yeah, but how the hell am I supposed to separate you from your douchebag brother."

"Why are we talking about my douchebag brother?" Francis merely watched the goings-on, plopping down near Feliciano, noting the German accent in the blonde boy's English.

… And it took him a total of three seconds to notice how close Feliciano was to..ahh… the potato bitch… and how their hands were clasped under the table, and the way their shoulders touched (please, he was an _expert _at this kind of thing). Now, he wasn't usually blunt, and this time was no exception. He turned to his right, where Romano had seated himself, and whispered in his ear.

"Are those two fucking?"

"_Mi frattello _is not fucking anybody wine bastard!"

"Slamming, screwing, makin' love, doing the deed, dance with not pants on, horizontal tango, **buttsex.**" Romano turned redder with each whispered suggestion, though from anger or contained laughter, he had no idea until the boy burst out laughing, heading falling on the table, arms clutching his stomach. Feliciano and… the potato bitch (again, he had to find out his name!) looked shocked, trying to see what was wrong with Romano.

"I AM SO FUCKING MAD AT YOU ASSHOLE!" Everyone in the lunch room turned around to stare as Romano tried to deck him again, but fell over laughing, head in Francis's lap. By the look the German shot him, he could tell they wouldn't get along. _Merci Dieu _that Romano hadn't noticed, simply lifting himself off of Francis after his laughing fit and dusted imaginary dust from his uniform. Romano was about to say something (probably mostly just senseless profanity directed at him), when hands covered Romano's eyes. Romano though, wasn't surprised. He merely scowled. Out of habit, when faced with other people, Francis ducked his head down, hair shielding him. He couldn't see who had come up to the table, and he was going to hide out in his little hair-cover until he found out. He wasn't about to blindly face someone and get punched in the face. After all, wasn't that always what happened to the new kid? Or maybe all those American high school movies were wrong? (in his defense, how ELSE was he supposed to learn about American culture?)

"What the fuck are you doing here, bastard?!" Bastard and fuck seemed to be Romano's favorite words.

"I just came to see you, Lovi!" The cheery accent was Spanish (and how interesting, he called Romano by not only his real name, but a nickname, and didn't get punched).

"Well fuck off!" The boy didn't respond, simply laughing. He decided he like whoever this was, they were obviously seasoned in taking Romano abuse. Whoever 'they' were.

"So, Romano, who's your sexy new friend?" German, the accent was German. Although there was an undeniable trance in his accent.

"And why is she wearing a boy's uniform?" And with this one sentence, whoever this German boy was had just doomed themselves. It gave Francis a very _interesting _idea. He changed the pitch of his voice, something his sister taught him to do.

"My brother was supposed to come here, but I got shipped off at the last minute." He used the fake sadness as an excuse to tilt his head lower, hiding his face even more. He could practically _hear _Romano rolling his eyes, already having guessed his plan. Of course, he knew Romano wouldn't pass up an opportunity to see the boy's reaction to his plan, he was just that cruel.

"Well, I'd be lying if I said I thought that was too bad…" Oh, the lines that guy's thought worked on girls, Francis thought in response.

"_Merci. _I… I know this is fast, but can you close your eyes?" Oh, he played the part of shy schoolgirl VERY well. He should be an actor (actress?). The boy knew what was coming, and quickly said yes, probably closing his eyes. Francis quickly whipped around (hoping no one saw his face) and kissed the other boy.

… He was doing a lot of kissing/almost kissing for one day. He let the other boy control this kiss, playing the role of a girl in a kiss perfectly. He smirked against the other teens lips as he felt a hand slip up his shirt, whoever this impatient stranger was, was in for a surprise. He heard the other boy gasp at his lack of boobs. Just at this moment Francis took control of the kiss. The surprised boy stood there in what was probably shock before tearing away from Francis. The look on his face was _priceless. _It was a combination of shock, horror, surprise and slight respect. Before he could apologize to the albino boy, he heard laughing. He turned his head to see a brunette, leaning on Romano to steady himself (this was probably who covered Romano's eyes earlier).

"Y-YOU'RE A DUDE!" This only made the brunette laugh harder.

"_Oui…_"

"WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU A DUDE?!"

"Because I was blessed with a penis?" More laughter from the brunette, but this time he caught his breath enough to speak.

"I think we've just witnessed the case of Gilbert's first love fraud." Francis smiled at that. He turned back to the boy, who he could see was slightly taller than himself, albino, and now furious with him.

"I don't suppose you would accept an apology…" Francis trailed off, not quite knowing what to call the boy.

"Gilbert. And hey, I would've done the same thing." His eyes widened, surprised at how easily Gilbert waved his anger off. This was the moment Francis decided he liked Gilbert, the boy had a good sense of humor. Gilbert moved to sit beside the potato bitch. Francis turned his gaze to face the brunette, but before he could utter his question, it was answered.

"Antonio." The cheery teen sat beside Gilbert. Romano turned to Gilbert, acknowledging him with a greeting of 'Potato-bastard' (so THIS was the douche bag brother).

"So, can I ask who you are, Mr…. potato bitch… or am I going to have to go on referring to you as-"

"Ludwig, I am Ludwig."

"_Merci, _Ludwig." From there, the conversation shifted from subject to subject, and Francis found he could talk easily to Gilbert and Antonio. It seemed that with them, he didn't have to worry about getting to know them, conversation just came naturally. Somehow the conversation drifted on the subject of whether or not Romano and Francis were dating.

"I'm not dating the wine bastard!"

"Of course _mon ami, _you only wish you were." This was accompanied by a wink and a swearing Italian. Gilbert wordlessly held out his hand hi-fiving Francis, the universal signal for _alllll riiight man! _

"Besides, aren't you and Antonio fucking?" Romano turned livid, while Antonio and Gilbert laughed.

"I TOLD YOU I AM NOT FUCKING ANYONE!"

"_Non, _you told me your _frère _was not fucking anybody, _vous avez laissé vous-même grande ouverte_, you left yourself wide open."

"Fuck you wine bastard, but I'll give you this one."

"Oi! Franny, that guitar case yours?" Gilbert said, steering the conversation in a completely different direction.

"_Oui. _My next class is music."

"Sweet, ours too. Toni's writing songs, Romano's on the sax and I play electric guitar." This led to an in depth discussion about musical tastes. Besides the songs from their respective cultures, Gilbert liked old school rock and roll, and selective metal, while Toni proffered the more obscure bands that wrote interesting, funny songs. He himself was a self-proclaimed music whore, if he liked a song, he liked it, no real preferences, although there was the occasional song that he had a burning hate or passion for.

"Oi, Franny, I've noticed… everything you do is sexual." He merely tilted his head to the side, blonde locks following, regarding Gilbert with interest.

"Even eating your fucking ice cream man!" Francis slowly dragged the spoon out of his mouth, tongue darting out to lick the edge.

"Now you're just doing it on purpose, _arschloch_."

"What can I say?" Francis shrugged his shoulders, holding his arms up, palms splayed out. A few more minutes and Francis grabbed his guitar, walking in between Antonio and Gilbert, Romano on the other side of Antonio, to his next class. He reached his arms out, groping Toni and Gilbert's asses. Toni merely smiled and tugged at Francis's hair, while Gilbert wrapped an arm around him.

Oh yeah, he _definitely _liked Gilbert and Antonio.

… It didn't occur to him till they had left that Feliciano and Ludwig had already left halfway through their initial conversation.

* * *

**There you have it! Oh, and two updates in one, woo! Break out the party pop! That's my totally dorkish way of saying let's celebrate with some Coca Cola~! Or Sprite, if that's your thing. Or water, killjoy. **

**Moving on, in case you're curious, the other update was on my story HETALIA DOES: Avenue Q~! Please check it out, it needs love! I worked really hard on it! JUST CHECK OUT THE FUCKING STORY, ASSHOLES. **

**Oh, and I recently found something titled 'The Giant Poster of Insults', so my swearing will become creative! My current favorite has to be douche canoe. **

**AND NOW! FOR REVIEW ANSWERS~~~~! **

**Dawnstar94 - YES~! I agree whole heartedly with everything you said! FEMALE FRUK RP SHIPPERS, UNITE! Thank you for taking time out of your day to read my writing! **

**A Kugelschreiber - Thank you so much! That review means such an amazing amount to me! FRANCE IS MY FAVORITE TOO! And I love the BTT! Also, thank you! I'm a slight grammar nazi as well, but I didn't catch that! Lo siento, mon ami~! **

**Mr. Grell Michealis - Here is the update! Sorry it was so late! In other news: I LOVE your username. I do believe I adore it.**

**Laylani-sama - Really? Well thank you! Well, here IS the next chapter, and I hope you like it as much as the last! **

**Thank you to anyone who reviewed, favorites, story/author alerted me, or a combination, it truly does mean a lot to me! **

**Much lovin's, Madame **


	3. A Fxck-load of Steps Backwards

**So, here's chapter 3~! Two chapters, same story, two days, awww yeah bitches, bow to the master~! **

**Disclaimer- Why don't you go play hide and go fuck yourself? And maybe, while you're at it, search for my ownership of this anime. It's right beside Santa and the tooth fairy, asswipe.**

* * *

Music, the one class he found he had absolutely no trouble paying attention to. Sure, he was an 'artist' (and therefore loved art, his particular medium was sketching), but… well, the mornings events were too recent at that time.

The music class had no desks, just a circle of chairs. Around the room, there were various musical instruments. Most students brought in their own, though, including Gilbert and Romano, whose cases had mysteriously materialized (like a lot of things that day). Each student sat down, Francis in between Gilbert and Antonio, and Francis was reminded much of a kindergarten sharing circle. Which was not the greatest thing to compare a big shot art school to. But eh, it was there, and it wouldn't leave him alone. Especially when students were required to play a piece or song to show their current skill level. It was like show and tell between artistically gifted teenagers.

He listened to each student, but it was three that stuck out the most. The first was Romano, because of two things. One was the actual music. He played an old jazz song on the saxophone, the soft sound so different from anything you would associate with Romano. The second was Romano. The permanent scowl on his face dropped, and while he didn't quite smile, he wasn't frowning. He was in-between, peaceful.

The next person to stick out was Gilbert. Simply because he was good. Really good, in fact. He played a difficult heavy metal song whose name slipped out of Francis's mind the minute it was spoken. Gilbert's fingers danced along the neck of the electric guitar, slamming out the quick rhythm.

The next and last student to stand out was a brunette boy, whose name was Roderich. He played the piano, and three things about him stood out. The first was his skill. He played an intricate soft song, where his fingers practically floated on the keys, never still. He was, for lack of a better word, amazing. But even that seemed like an understatement. The next thing to stand out about him was his obvious love for the instrument. He treated it with the utmost care, running his fingers on the keys as if they were made of glass. A light smile stayed on his lips the entirety of his playing, and his cold violet eyes softened. The last, but _certainly _not least thing to stand out about him was Gilbert. The albino watched the brunette with an intensity in his crimson eyes that truly shocked the Frenchman. When he had talked to Gilbert, he had seemed so carefree, and had a slightly short attention span. But it seemed that the piano playing boy captured his attention completely. Throughout the whole performance Gilbert couldn't tear his eyes away from Roderich. Francis smiled, knowing _exactly _what was going on. He would have to help with that soon. Normally, he wouldn't meddle, but this was a _special _case. It was so blatantly obvious, Francis knew he couldn't stand to sit through an entire year watching the Prussian (Gilbert had immediately rushed to correct him when he had said he thought the boy was German) stare at the piano player from afar. Just _imagining _it was painful for the romantic French teen.

When it was his turn, Francis didn't have to think more than a split second on what he would play. He knew he should have played the most complicated, finger bleeding song he knew, to prove himself to the teacher, to establish his skill, to earn his place in this musical genius heaven. But he couldn't bring himself to. Music was something he loved, and he wanted to show that. His fingers did a brief dance in the air before settling on the strings and strumming the first notes to _'Sweet Child O' Mine' _by Guns N Roses.

It was a song deeply woven into the threads of his childhood. He remembered his father playing the song late at night, when he thought Francis was asleep. Francis would watch from the doorway as his father played the same song over and over again in front of the fireplace, singing the lyrics softly, yet unwaveringly. It had been the first song he learned on the guitar, and to this day remained the song he played whenever he needed to sort out his emotions. After the first few seconds, his eyes slipped shut as his fingers plucked the strings in the same pattern they had thousands of times before. He let all his emotions from the day pour into the song, feeling everything sort of _release. _As the song ended, Francis's eyes slid open, and he felt _better _somehow, without even knowing he had felt saddened to begin with.

The teacher said something, he didn't hear it. He merely smiled and hoped he hadn't fucked anything up. His good mood remained through the entire period, slowly settling into the relaxation of his home in music.

* * *

Ha ha ha _**fuck**_. The rest of the day had gone normally for the Arthur, quite well, in fact, for the start of school. The only issue had been that damn Frenchman. Not that he had run into Francis again (he had made a point of avoiding him), but he had stayed on his mind the entire day. _The entire bloody fucking day._ By the end of the day Arthur had a fully formulated opinion on Francis. His main thoughts were that he wanted to punch him in the face and snog him senseless at the same time. Which, to put it simply, **sucked**. All his thoughts concerning Francis seemed to be bi-polar. In fact, all of his thoughts seemed to be about Francis.

Which is why, for whatever reason, he seemed to be _stalking _the Frenchman right now. Not that he had intended to of course! He had just seen the blonde boy walking towards a section of the out-of-school dorms with that blasted Spaniard and 'Prussian', and it had just sort of… _happened. _

And he _was_ stalking him. At first, he had tried to delude himself and say to himself that he was only walking in the same direction as them, and that his dorm was in the same sector. It had worked, at first, but he was forced to give up the charade when he ducked behind a tree so as to avoid being spotted when Francis turned around.

So here he was, _stalking_, and trying not to run up and rip Antonio's arm off when he slipped it around Francis's waist. _**NOT THAT HE WAS JEALOUS, OF COURSE! **_Because there was no way in _hell _he was jealous of that Spanish wanker, and definitely not because he was close to that perverted FROG!

But he continued to follow them. He watched them laugh at something Gilbert said –most probably perverted (damn wankers) - and _somehow _pull off a three way hi-five. Lucky bastards, those were trickier then they looked.

Why was he even following them? Unlike most stalkers, he didn't have a definitive goal. Should he have a goal? _What was he thinking?! _He shouldn't be doing this in the first place!

…Spying, he decided, it wasn't stalking, it was spying. Yes, that sounded MUCH better.

* * *

Francis smiled, listening to Antonio talk about Romano, going on and on about how perfect his little _tomate _was. Francis placed a hand on his shoulder, cutting him off.

"_Mon ami, _you've got it bad." Antonio hung his head.

"I know! But you've seen Roma, there's no _way _he likes me!"

"_Scheiße_, 'Toni, you just have to ask him! You're like a puppy, following him around!"

"Oh, Gilbert, you're one to talk!" Antonio replied.

"_Was – _What are you talking about?" Gilbert stuttered slightly in German, giving himself away. But it was Francis who filled in for Toni.

"He's talking about that brunette boy, the one who played piano and sounded _Allemand_." Francis shook his head and corrected 'German' at the questioning looks he got.

"_Österreicher_." Gilbert mumbled almost automatically. Toni leaned in and whispered 'Austrian' in Francis's ear.

"And… I do not love him!" Francis's already present smirk only grew wider.

"Who said anything about _amour_?" Gilbert bit his lip cursed, catching his all too cliché mistake too late.

"Before he tried to cover it up, he _does _love Roderich."

"Toni you traitor!" Francis chuckled.

"It was obvious from the way you started at him during music, but _merci, _'Tonio, for confirming it."

"_Le invitamos_." Toni replied cheerfully in Spanish.

"So, Gilbert, what are you going to do about this little _problème_?

"Nothing! He hates me; we've been fighting since freshman year!" Gilbert put his head in his hands, finally admitting his despair.

"Hmm… I'd have to actually meet this Roderich in person before we can determine that." Francis said lightly. Yet despite the careless tone in his voice, it set off red flags for Gilbert, who, during the lunch they had spent together, had learned _exactly _the type of person the Frenchman was when it came to matters of the heart.

"_Warten! _You're not planning on doing anything, are you? ARE YOU?!" Gilbert screamed the last part in horror.

"Maybe." Francis practically sang the word, before skipping off, causing Gilbert to run after him, a laughing Toni in tow.

* * *

Arthur watched and tried to keep up as Gilbert chased the Frenchman, before grabbing him and flinging the protesting blonde over his shoulder. Arthur watched Francis flail in Gilbert's arms before resigning, admitting defeat and letting Gilbert carry him, before slapping his ass, causing Gilbert to jump and Francis to laugh.

_WERE THESE BASTARDS _TRYING _TO PISS HIM OFF?! _

And _why _was he pissed off.

Why was he stalking the Frenchman?

WHY?!

Groaning, he turned to the tree he was hiding behind and smashed his head against it. He bloody _hated _this stupid teenage angst, but here it was! And over a _Frenchman_ no less! The universe was conspiring against him. It had to be. And he wasn't feeling jealous, and he didn't want Francis, and he was simply walking back to his dorm, which was conveniently in the same direction as Francis's. Exactly. Yes, that sounded _totally _believable! What total _bullocks_! Groaning, he resumed his stalking… ehem… **spying. **

After a few minutes which consisted of Francis talking to Antonio from his position over Gilbert's shoulder, the trio arrived at a relatively small house, their dorm. Gilbert shifted Francis in his arms, now carrying him bridal style, and Arthur's blood boiled.

* * *

"So Franny, honey, what do you think of our new home?"

"Oh Gilbert dear, it's just perfect!" Francis replied in an overly high pitched imitation of a female's voice, despite being able to imitate a girl almost perfectly. Gilbert cringed slightly at the memory.

"I hope you two have a wonderful life together, but try not to be _too _loud tonight!" Antonio said in a singsong voice. Gilbert laughed and walked into the room to the left of the entrance, and flung Francis onto the king sized bed. Francis bounced when he hit the soft mattress, before falling harshly on his ass. Getting up and rubbing his sore _derrière_, Francis walked around to survey the small house.

The door opened to a small living room with a large, comfy looking black sofa and medium sized flat screen T.V on the wall exactly opposite of the door. There was a glass coffee table in between the sofa and the television, which held only a sleek black remote.

To the left of the living room was the bedroom, with not even a wall or screen door to separate it from the rest of the house, meaning you could see into the bedroom from anywhere.

The bedroom only had one bed for the three of them, it was king sized, and had a thin white sheet and only one pillow. There was a small night table on each side of the bed, each with an even smaller lamp. There was a singular large drawer on the wall that also held the door.

On the right of the living room was the kitchen. It held a steel fridge, a state of the art oven, a steel dishwasher, a toaster, a microwave, and a sink that looked very impressive… could a sink look impressive? All these appliances looked brand new. The cabinets were painted white, giving the sink a modern look. There were ceramic tiles on the floor of the kitchen.

There was only one bathroom, and it was (thankfully) behind a door in the bedroom.

But the absolute _best _thing about the dorm house was the floors. Hardwood floors. No matter how only you are, sliding in your socks on hardwood floors is _the shit. _

Francis had been told to leave his lone suitcase at the school's main office, and he could now see why. His worn, beat up suitcase had been placed neatly beside one with the Spanish flag and an obnoxiously yellow one, which made him smile. On the way to their dorm, Gilbert had told him all about his pet chick Gilbird (who would be brought to the school shortly), punctuating his sentences by slapping Francis's ass, as if wasn't sore enough. Although in certain contexts he wouldn't have minded nearly as much – not that he minded in the first place.

* * *

He was crazy. Absolutely, completely, bat shit insane. After all, what else would cause him to approach the dorm of the boy he was currently spying on? Wasn't that the first rule of spying? Don't get caught by the person you're spying on?

_Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it_…. His clenched fist reached up… _don't do it twat_! He wrapped once on the door. _YOU DID IT! YOU COMPLETE AND UTTER IDIOT, WHY DID YOU DO IT? WHY WON'T YOU LISTEN TO YOURSELF! _

At the third knock, Antonio pulled the door opened.

"Arthur? What are you doing here?" Arthur scowled, he had never gotten along with the Spanish teen.

"I'm here to-" But thankfully he didn't have to make up some bullocks excuse, because he was interrupted by Francis.

"Arthur?" Francis's head appeared from behind the doorframe, the rest of his body hidden.

"Yes, it's me you twat. But more importantly, what the _fuck _are you doing?" Francis grunted, and Arthur heard a whispered 'Give me the fucking notebook, _arschloch_!' from what sounded like Gilbert.

"No-nothing. Arthur what are you doing here?" Now that Arthur really looked, Francis looked disheveled, his hair almost completely out of the tie it had been in earlier that day, his shirt ruffled and creased, his pants hanging skewed off his hips. And _fuck _he looked sexy, his hair falling into his eyes. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, this was not what he needed. Why had he even knocked on the door in the first place?

"I… what happened to you?" Francis's head was jerked forward, before his whole body fell forward. Arthur watched as Francis fell, clutching a black book in his hands. Gilbert fell with him, legs tangled together. The albino landed on top of Francis, causing Arthur to clench his teeth. What infuriated him more was that Francis didn't seem to mind at all! After noticing their position, the two merely laughed. Gilbert even went as far as to shift himself slightly, moving to straddle Francis, and bringing up the need to kick the Prussian in the balls in Arthur. Francis looked up, and made the most eloquent comment possible at the moment.

"Arthur, if you were a _fille _I could see up your skirt right now." While the trio behind the door was sent into a fit of giggles, Arthur turned red.

"You are such an idiotic, perverted twat!" Francis didn't miss a beat before responding.

"And you are a humourless bastard." Arthur's eyes winded, not expecting this _at all. _Where had that come from? Sure, Arthur had insulted the frog continuously, but he had never responded! Arthur was surprised to find the comment stung.

"What's wrong with you, frog? I stop by out of the goodness of my heart and you insult me?"

"Yes, because my entire day revolves around your God-given presence, _Angelterre_." Francis practically spat out. And that's how it started. Arthur fired back, Francis replied, and soon it erupted into a shouting match between Arthur and Francis, who was still on the ground, topped by Gilbert, who seemed perfectly comfortable where he was. Arthur didn't know if he was angry at Francis or Gilbert, but whatever it was, the Frenchman was a perfect target for his anger release. Everything about him pissed Arthur off, his **French **accent, everything he said, the fact that the arsehole was taller than him, the way his hair fell into his eyes perfectly, _everything_. Finally Arthur had enough.

"You know what, fuck this, and fuck you!" With that he turned on his heel and walked off, trying not to focus on the hurt the Frenchman's words stirred in him. Because he knew that it was _only _the Frenchman that could raise this reaction out of him.

* * *

_Oh my fucking god. _Francis had no idea what had just happened. Where had that come from? He had just started what was most likely a long, never ending rivalry with a boy he had an obsession with! What was wrong with him?!

And it wasn't just any boy, it was Arthur! Arthur with his messy hair, striking green eyes and undeniably attractive English accent. Arthur, who he had just discovered, had the most amazingly creative insults he had ever heard. Arthur who was perfect inside and out.

But this was so much easier! He had just seen Arthur and it had just… _happened. _An involuntary reaction, to protect himself from these _feelings. _That, and no matter how he felt about Arthur, the boy was being a total **dick. **

Wordlessly pushing Gilbert off him, he closed the still open door, and proceeded to bang his head against it repeatedly. He was, no matter which was you looked at it, _**fucked.**_

* * *

**WELL, HERE YA HAVE IT! Told ya it wasn't gonna go fast, their 'relationship' just took about 6 000 steps back~! But I can already FEEL the sexual tension~! Now, onto the review answers~! **

**Leylani-sama - Really? You ADORE it? Well thank you so much! I do believe I adore YOU, now~! Because this review is fantastic, and really brightens my day :D And you're right! I realize, for the sentence to make sense, I should have used 'tu' for starters, because 'vous' is plural. WHOPS~! I was just being a lazy jackwagon, and I used google translate. And to think, I get top grades in French -_- ~ ;). I'm glad I could get this one out so quick, then! Please come back~! :D **

**Mr. Grell Michaelis - Your username is indeed fantastic. And yes, I have got a schedule, and as of today I plan to keep it. And since I have a total of three friends, I do believe it shant be that hard to find free time ;) I update on Saturdays, for sure, every week. An update might come out earlier, but only if I have more then one chapter done. Otherwise, you can expect to hear from me every Saturday. :D No, it won't be an entire month! The reason chapter 2 was so late is because, as I have stated, I am a lazy jackwagon ~ ;). And I hope you enjoyed Iggy's point of view~! I'm so sorry I couldn't do the whole thing in Iggy-vision, but it worked out better this way. **

**Dawnstar94 - For me, I actually AM a France, so I'm kind-of always in character. ;) :D Thanks, I'm really glad you enjoyed the chapter. Also, it's awesome that you're getting cosplay! I'm SUCH a cheap-o (that sounds like a product I would buy) so I usually make my own cosplay from things I find around mesa casa. **

**SoraChiistar - Really? Really goodly and truely? Yeah, I always get told I'm way too blunt, but I like my bluntness. It makes my the very happy. ;) But the current subject of my blunt sex jokes, my best friend, is less then thrilled... most of the time ;) Anyways, thank you so much for stopping to review, it means a lot, and when I read your review it really did make my day, so _merci :D _**

**Madame Perv, perving out ~ ;) (I don't even know what the hell that MEANS) **


	4. In Which the BTT Destroys a Wal-Mart

**Here, as promised, is Chapter four~! Also, since I previously said this in a review answer, I will be updating every Saturday, (hopefully!) without fail! Cross your finger~! **

**Warning- IF I owned Hetalia, well then, I'd be one lucky bitch, _non_? **

* * *

While Francis busied himself with banging his head on the door, Gilbert seized the opportunity, grabbing the book they had been fighting over earlier. Waving Toni over, they took advantage of the Frenchman's obvious misery and opened the book. The moment the books first page was turned, their jaws dropped in sync. For two reasons.

The first being the subject of the drawings the book was graced with. From what they could tell, Francis hated the Brit. Then… why?

The second was the sheer skill and precision the sketches were drawn in. Francis was definitely good, and he obviously cared for the subject of the sketches, as every little detail was penciled with precision. Arthur was drawn with different expressions on his face; shock, anger, happiness, _rage _(not to be mistaken with simple _anger_).

Taking one look at the miserable Frenchman banging his head on the door, the problem instantly became clear to them. Antonio knew exactly how he was feeling, as this was what he went through when he first met Romano. Walking over to the teen, he placed a hand on his shoulder, but before he could comfort him, Gilbert beat him to it.

"You fucked up _royally; _I couldn't have done better myself, _glückwünsche_." While Gilbert laughed, Antonio slapped his shoulder, muttering something about idiotic Prussians in Spanish. With a smile, he turned to Francis.

"_Mi amigo, _there's no denying it, you're fucked, but want to know what'll make you feel better?"

"_Que_?" Francis lifted his head from the door.

Antonio's face turned serious, and he moved to look Francis directly in the eyes, and uttered only one word: "Wal-Mart." When the words left his mouth, Gilbert also turned deathly serious, nodding his agreement. Francis saw something in their faces he didn't want to mess with, so when Toni ushered him to his now open suitcase and pointed to his clothes, he followed the command wordlessly.

Grabbing a black tank top, purple button up shirt and dark grey jeans he made to change in the bathroom, but, wanting to test something, stayed right where he was and began to strip. Smiling when all he got was a wolf whistle from Gilbert and a joking '_I call slut'_ from Toni, he continued to get dressed. It was confirmed, these were _his _people. Although it was slightly surprising at how quickly he became comfortable around them.

Gilbert and Toni followed his example, changing in the open bedroom. When they were done, they each hooked an arm through his, and together they skipped to the door.

"So, _mes amis, _how do you plan to reach this magical Wal-Mart? I don't suppose either of you own a car?"

"_Nicht, _but my _bruder_ does." Gilbert said.

"_Ton frère_, the potato bitch?" Gilbert smirked.

"_Ja, _I love that transgender bitch to death." Sharing a laugh, the three made their way to Gilbert's brother's dorm, which, Francis learned on the way, he shared with Romano's brother and a small Japanese boy.

* * *

Francis watched the German shouting match with mild interest, wondering how exactly this was supposed to make him feel better. And why was he so upset about this to begin with? He, as a rule, was well versed in romance. Yet, he supposed, when it came to his _own _love life, he was completely and utterly hopeless. That was just the _effect _Arthur had on him. He had never had trouble with emotions before, but with Arthur, it seemed as if everything were different, new. It seemed like starting over, like learning to decipher his own emotions again.

And, not to mention, the solution to this was Wal-Mart. Despite his best efforts, he had not been able to get Gilbert and Antonio to tell him _what _Wal-Mart was. Great, ANOTHER thing to confuse him, running around his mind, mingling with thoughts of Arthur, and how he had, in the words of the poetic Gilbert, _'royally fucked up'_.

He had, hadn't he? There was the boy he had been… _infatuated _with since almost the very second he met him, giving him a wonderful, perfect opportunity, and he blows it! And not only does he blow it, he does so in a way that sets the stage for thousands of fights full of regret. _Idiot! _He had called him a humourless bastard, for God's sake!

Turning his attention back to the argument, he realized he had missed it, as Gilbert was now grabbing a set of keys from his brother, ruffling his hair and disturbing the meticulous way it was slicked back.

"_Danke, bruder!" _

"_Ja ja, _just don't crash my car. Again." Gilbert grinned.

"No promises." Ludwig rolled his eyes, shoving Gilbert, then Antonio, and finally Francis out the door, slamming it behind him. Antonio grinned, and leaned close to whisper in Francis's ear.

"It's always like this with them, it kind of endearing, _si_?"

"_Oui, _it's less of an argument and more of brotherly exasperation."

"_That _is not an argument. What you and Arthur just had was an argument." Francis groaned.

"Don't remind me. I think I called him a fuck-face at some point."

"_Si, _you did. Where'd you learn that one?"

"Some jackass at the airport when I got here."

"Sounds like America." Antonio smiled, and Francis couldn't help but laugh.

"Now, let's make you feel better!" Antonio said in a sing-song voice, dragging him to the brand new BMW. **BMW**! Francis had been saving up for a car for years, and he still didn't have enough to purchase a used Ford!

"So Gilbert, in what part of this conversation can I casually slip in a question about whether or not you're rich?" Gilbert immediately stopped moving completely, halfway through opening the door.

"Ah… we don't talk about that." Antonio finally said, slapping Gilbert on the back, jump starting his motor skills. Francis noted Gilbert's reaction, and, not wanting to upset the boy further, got in the car without another word, and the first half of the drive to the mysterious Wal-Mart was spent in silence.

Francis, who was seated in the passenger seat beside Gilbert -who was driving- leaned his head on the window, enjoying the feel of the cool glass, and just _thinking_.

He was curious about what had just happened to Gilbert, but he didn't want to fuck up twice in one day, and ruin the friendship he had with the boy. Because Gilbert – and Antonio- were different. He hadn't known them long, yet here they were, driving to some unknown place, to make _him _feel better. And it wasn't just that. He truly felt that he could do anything around the two boys; they were the most accepting people he had ever met. He had stripped in front of them (two openly gay teens) and they had taken it in stride! He had never gotten so close to anyone in such little time. He had never really been this close to _anyone. _

Today was really just a series of too-fast feelings, wasn't it? But friendship was different. Usually, you had to work at it, but with Antonio and Gilbert it just came naturally. It seemed that he never had to get to know the two; every time they talked it was the first meeting all over again, but in a good way. He never felt he had to keep appearances with the two, he could genuinely be himself.

…_Dieu_, he was such a girl. Fucking feelings and shit.

About halfway to their destination, Francis couldn't stand the silence anymore.

"Did Arthur call me a dick-weed?" And that easily, the ice was broken, and the rest of the drive was spent in laughter as the trio came up with creative insults. Gilbert said they were for the next time Francis saw Arthur. Francis was only _slightly _amused.

* * *

In only twenty short minutes they reached Wal-Mart.

"A superstore. You brought me to a fucking _superstore_." Grins spread across the albino and brunette's faces as Antonio pulled out a paper from his pocket. The paper was folded almost ten times, and was wrinkled out of use.

"We printed this out a _long _time ago, but we never got around to doing any of it." Gilbert offered a completely useless explanation.

"Printed out _what_, doing _what_?" Wordlessly, Antonio handed him the paper. It was simply titled "_**500 THINGS TO DO AT WAL-MART**_". And suddenly it was all clear. They were going to do everything in their power to get kicked out of a superstore. Gilbert and Antonio were right; this _was _going to make him feel better. After all, what was more uplifting then fucking with poor, innocent flunkies working for minimum wage?

"_Attendez, cinq cents_? Five hundred?"

"We'll work down the list. Today we do ten; the rest shall be completed throughout the year. _Männer_, ARE YOU READY?!" Gilbert yelled. Antonio and Francis saluted, and the trio ran into the store, the automatic doors opening as the approached, adding to the effect of men on a mission.

* * *

_1. Take shopping carts for the express purpose of filling them and stranding them at strategic locations. _

They smirked as they read the first item on the list. Each grabbing a shopping cart, they first made their way to the women's section. The first cart, Antonio's, was filled with all the lacy bras in the women's clothing section and topped with a bra with Homer Simpson on it. Arranging the bras artfully in a tower, they looked the cart over thrice before deeming it worthy.

They ran down the aisles, jumping on the bottom of the carts and gliding down the rest of the aisle. _Shopping cart races._ That was all that needed to be said. After racing around the store (and picking up fallen bras), they decided the best place for Toni's cart was in the electronics' section, right in the middle of children's games.

Next, they filled Gilbert's cart with baby products, everything you would need to take care of a new born. They then strategically placed it right in front of a shelf with condoms. After running all the way across the store to rip out a sheet of paper from a notebook (_sorry, Wal-Mart!_), they grabbed a pen and ran back to the condom shelf, leaving a note that said _'Good luck!'_ on the cart full of baby products.

Francis's cart was filled with one of everything from twenty random aisles, and then left right in front of the store (_how were people not noticing this?_) with another sign that read _'Forgot something? Take it and run fucker!'_. They ran off, not getting to see the reaction to the carts, but still giddy from the very act and knowledge of preforming the prank.

_2. Ride those little electronic cars at the front of the store._

This one was slightly more difficult to get away with. They slowly tiptoed (in plain sight – but it was the thought that counted) to the front of the store, setting themselves in the little cars. Gilbert immediately shouted at the top of his lungs, attracting the attention of _everyone _in Wal-Mart, and promptly driving his little car into Francis's, then taking off.

This started a twenty minute race through Wal-Mart, albeit an incredibly slow one. Francis finally caught up with Gilbert when the albino crashed into a shelf of _Tide_ detergent. Francis rammed into him with a satisfied shout of: "THE TIDES HAVE TURNED!"

Antonio, meanwhile, was amusing himself by rapidly turning his little car in circles. Francis rammed into him, causing the Spaniard to spin off course, setting him after revenge. Gilbert and Antonio teamed up on Francis, cornering him between two shelves of high heels. Antonio, laughing, shoved him off the cart and into the shelf, where heels fell down onto him, burying him. Francis made a show of getting up, acting as if the heels had hit him in the eye. Gilbert and Antonio, as predicted, rushed to his aid. But then the two were close enough, Francis pulled them into the pile of shoes.

"Francis what the-" He cut Gilbert off by shoving his head into the pile of shoes, allowing him to resurface a few seconds later.

"Security guy." Was the only explanation.

"I think I have a shoe up my ass." Antonio said, causing the three to burst out laughing. After calming down, they decided that they should wear disguises from then on, for two reasons. One, because it would be utterly hilarious (because you _know _Francis wouldn't let them get away without at least one of them wearing a skirt) and two, because if they were spotted, they wouldn't want to be recognized.

* * *

Sneaking off to the women's section, Francis and Antonio successfully got poor, Gilbert in a skirt and large pink shirt (over his school uniform, of course). Proud of themselves, they chose clothing for each other. Purple Justin Beiber shirt and sequined, sparkly purple track pants for Francis and neon green booty shorts (over his school trousers) and a neon orange tube top (also over his button up shirt) for Toni.

"Shouldn't we… pay for these?" Francis asked while pulling on a pair of comically large, sparkly silver glasses in the shape of stars.

"Or we could leave another note beside a used pile of clothes?" Was Gilbert's answer, muffled by the Spongebob Squarepants watch he was trying to strap to his face.

"Or that, that sounds good." Francis took pity on Gilbert and slowly removed the watch, wondering why he had brought it in the change room in the first place. Smirking as the thought _change room _entered his mind, he turned to look at Antonio. The Spanish teen immediately understood the look, and the two turned to Gilbert. By some sort of unspoken communication, the three had the same idea.

They were three teenage boys, in a change room. More importantly, the woman who had given them the key to the change room knew they were all there, _together. _

They suddenly broke out into the most ridiculous, over the top sex noises they could possibly make. Sure enough, within seconds of moaning and Antonio's foot shaking the door, the lady who was in charge of the change room came up and began to bang on the already shaking door. Francis covered her up with a loud moan, shouting Gilbert's name. Said Prussian had a look of mixed horror and respect (_it was a very real sex noise, he sounded like the perfect slut, it was quite sexy_). Antonio, meanwhile, tried to cover his giggles (it would ruin the act), overcome with the thought of what it might sounds like if his two friends were to a_ctually _have sex, and who would top. Antonio joined it the moaning, decided to contribute muttering incoherent, breathy sentences in Spanish.

The poor lady didn't know what to do. She couldn't very well use her key and open the door in the middle of what she thought was an awkward, cramped threesome between three teenaged boys. _God knows what they were using those clothes for._ After a minute of being covered up by loud groans and erotic pants, the lady had had enough. Grabbing her key and steeling herself for what she was about to see, she let out a final warning, loud enough to be heard over Francis's screams.

"I'M COMING IN!" She immediately regretted her choice of words. The trio, on the other hand, could barely contain their laughter, despite the imminent doom. After another shared look and silent communication, the tree simultaneously made a loud finishing sound, and, a mere second later, flung the door open.

Needless to say, the lady was shocked when, instead of the after sex mess she expected, the door revealed three completely (if ridiculously) clothed teens.

"What… what is going on?" She finally managed to sputter out.

"We were just changing." Antonio said, his picture perfect innocence almost swaying the woman.

"You were doing more than _just changing._" Antonio pretended to be surprised, eyes widening and jaw unhinging in 'shock'.

"How could you assume we would do something like _that _and in _public_?" The Spaniard was, again, the very picture of innocence.

"But… the moans…" The poor lady couldn't connect the sounds she _knew _she heard with image of the thoroughly **unfucked** teens she now saw.

"_Madame, _I regretfully inform you that you, no matter how good of a person you are, are a pervert." Francis kept his face completely strait, but it took all of his self-restraint to not burst out laughing.

"I… I am not!"

"But you thought we were having sex!" The minute the 'horrified' words were out of Gilbert's mouth, Antonio cowered in his shoulder.

"_Désolé, _he's so innocent. Please ma'am, we need to go." And that is how the trio passed through the change rooms without the lady wondering why they were still wearing the clothes, and stopping them. She was just too frozen in shock to really do much of anything.

* * *

At first, Gilbert was shy about the skirt, blushing madly. But he soon became accustomed to it, even going as far as to strut down the aisles, hips swinging and hair flinging over his shoulders. Francis leaned in to whisper in Antonio's ear.

"I'd still hit that."

* * *

_3. Set all the alarm clocks to go off at ten minute intervals throughout the day._

Now, fully clad in ridiculous disguises complete with sunglasses, the trio rushed to complete the third item on the list. Deciding to modify the third item slightly, as they wouldn't get to see the repercussions, they decided to set them all off at the same time.

Making the mistake of staying in the middle of the hallway, the trio immediately fell to their knees as _every fucking surrounding alarm clock _went off. The sound rung in their ears, painfully reverberating in their skulls. When it was over, the three picked themselves off the ground. Gilbert tentatively checked his ears for bleeding after the godforsaken ringing finally _stopped. _

"We are _never _doing that again."

"But what if we-"

"NEIN!"

"So… it's unanimous?"

"JA." Gilbert's tone left no room for argument, and, quite frankly the other two members of the trio couldn't agree more.

Although, the pain did pay off slightly when frantic Wal-Mart employee's came running, screaming bloody murder at whoever was responsible for this. The trio took off running, security on their heels.

'_Level up, bitches' _was the only thought in Francis's mind. They were now wanted in Wal-Mart. There was nothing more fulfilling in life then being able to say that sentence.

* * *

_4. Start playing Football; see how many people you can get to join in._

There was a hurdle in their plan almost immediately. It was _much _harder then it looked to get the balls out of the nets. It took them about five minutes of grunting, pulling and swearing to finally get a soccer ball (they had managed to snag a 'football' about seven time, but fucking lot of help that would be – as Gilbert eloquently put it). They had decided to play _European_ football, meaning soccer to Americans.

Gilbert held up the soccer ball victoriously, mirroring the opening scene in Lion King where the monkey holds the baby cub up to the sun.

"After a valiant effort, VICTORY IS OURS!" Smiling, Francis stole the ball from Gilbert's hand, placing it on the ground and running off, dribbling the ball. Francis was fairly good at soccer, but hadn't been playing recently, choosing to focus on his music and art. Gilbert, who he quickly gathered was very skilled at soccer, came up and stole the ball, shoving Francis playfully.

Antonio was _extremely _skilled at soccer. The boy quickly snatched the ball from Gilbert, bouncing it on his foot before quickly flicking his heel, and starting to bounce the ball on his head. He smiled widely, bouncing the ball on his nose like a seal.

"Show off." Gilbert said, but he was also smiling, the sight was just too ridiculous not to. Antonio was bent forward slightly, ass sticking out (_Antonio really did have such a nice ass)_. Francis and Gilbert just couldn't resist walking behind the Spanish teen and slapping his perfectly positioned ass, sending the poor teen stumbling forward.

After a few minutes, they recruited about six more people, with strangers going in and out the game. The trio was in the lead, _of course_. They made the mistake of playing in the clothing section. Needless to say, within minutes the men's clothing section was in ruins.

This led to the reappearance of security. The burly guard focused on the ridiculously dressed teens (now that they thought about, they looked like newbie trannies), chasing them around the clothing section. Laughing all the way through, they grabbed sweaters and pants, throwing them behind them in a desperate bid to lose the guard.

Of course that in itself was a failure, as you'd have to be deaf to miss the shouts of triumph from the trio. The finally escaped, their breathing turned ragged, by hiding together, squished between a wall and a floor rug. They waited there, pushed uncomfortably and undeniably sexually together, until they were sure the guard had given up.

* * *

_5. Run up to an employee (preferably a male) while squeezing your legs together and practically yell at him I need some tampons!"_

They decided to skip this one… despite looking like ugly girls. There were some boundaries even gay guys weren't willing to cross. Even gay guys with a tendency to cross every boundary in existence just for the pleasure of screaming _'How do you like me now, dickheads!' _to the people on the other side.

In other news, Francis had realized that America swear words were rubbing off on him much quicker than he liked, with the help of Gilbert, of course. As his eyes scanned the next question on the list, he smiled, the large, smirking grin that came with the thrill of mischief.

There was really _nothing _better to make anyway stop feeling terrible than to mess with the poor unfortunate souls stuck at Wal-Mart.

…Or that _crime _on food, McDonalds.

* * *

**Well, there ya have it! Know, I feel the need to explain a few things in this chapter. **

**1) This was my longest chapter yet, at over 3 600 words! Yahoo~! But I assume I will always be making this long chapter's, as opposed to my previous 1 000 something word long chapters, because I have an entire week to write. So _merci _for being so patient and waiting a week! **

**2) I will explain Gilbert's issue with his apparent richness is the next chapter, so be patient, my darlings! **

**3) I just _HAD _to make them destroy a Wal-Mart. I just think that as a teenager, it's simply a right of passage. I myself have no done so, but I REALLY REALLY REALLY fucking want to. Oh, and the list they're using is actually a real list, I found it online. **

**4) _DA, _they WILL be going through all the 500 things in this fanfic~! Because come _on__! _Plus, I'm the author so what I say goes, bitches. **

**5) _Oui, _I realize that I made three European teens swear in English but I think that after living for even a week in an English speaking country, the habit would be picked up. **

**6) I'm sure there's more, but I forgot.**

**7) OH! Now I remember. I just wanted to say that I realize that when they entered Wal-Mart I switched to more third-person point of view, but that WAS intentional, so please no one ride my ass about it, m'kay?**

**8) OH OH OH! I ALMOST FORGOT THE MOST IMPORTANT FOOTNOTE! I don't necessarily like the title, so the next time this is updated, it will be under the name of 'The Typical Problems of one Francis Bonnefoy'. Zhat is all! **

**Now, review answers! **

**Mr. Grell Michaelis - Lo siento! I would LOVE to update daily, but I just _know _I'd cock up and start updating monthly, and since you and all my readers are so amazing, I really want to make a problem I can keep! And I am so so so so so so SO sorry I couldn't do any of this chapter in Iggy's point of view! BUT, I plan to insert lots of Iggy-vision into the next chapter, so here's hoping! And thank you so much~! Ditto, I have about a total of maybe 5 friends? One who is in another school, three of which are in a whole other year then me, and one who is a dude, and therefore can only stand to be around be for so long. Even though, he's more of a girl then I am ;) Many thanks for reviewing! **

**Flarfenshnargen - I hope I can take that a good thing? ;) Thank you for taking time out of your day to review, every little bit counts! **

**Leylani-sama - Don't worry, I love the laugh. I myself do it all the time ;) As for the update, _nici o problema_! (lo siento, I like to speak in other languages. That one being my native one, Romanian, and meaning no problem) Well thank you! I'm so glad you like my characterization of them! Yup XD That's pretty much it :D Because really, I HAD to include the fighting, because they do fight, _a lot. _And that's why we love 'em! Merci, I myself am a huge lover of the BTT close friendship AND threesome ;) Ditto on google translate. I realize I should try to translate the French myself from now on. :P So, bear with me on zhat~! I am cruel? Oh noes! I dearly hope I am cruel for a good thing! As always, many thanks for reviewing :D **

**Madame Perv, perving out~! (still don't know what it means, still love it!) Lo siento for the long AN! **


	5. The Destruction of Wal-Mart is Completed

**Here's chapter five, on a Saturday, as promised~! **

**Warning: Nope, no creative way of saying it today, imma just gonna put it out there! _Madame. YaoiPervert69 _DOES NOT own Hetalia: Axis Powers or World Series (but she does have all four seasons). **

* * *

_6. Try on bras in the sewing/fabric department._

_7. Try on bras over top of your clothes._

Deciding to mesh number six and seven together, the three gleefully rushed off to the women's section. They already looked like trannies, why not give boobs a whirl?

"Oi, should we shove oranges in the bra's and parade around giving people fashion tips?" Gilbert said. The other two teens didn't even have to think over a split second.

"_Oui! _But oranges? If we're going to have boobs, we shall have melon boobs!" Francis happily proclaimed. Antonio and Gilbert nodded their agreement. Because really, if they _were _to be reborn as girls, they'd be the sexiest damn girls to walk the earth. The next few minutes were spent in laughter as the trio decided on just which bras (only the best) to wear. Laughter seemed to be a constant with the trio.

In the end, Francis settled on a lacy black bra, most likely fit for women in their twenties who just wanted to have _fun_. Gilbert went with red lace, stating it matched his eyes (earning snickers from Francis and Toni, to which Gilbert replied with indignant sputtering). Antonio found a bra for slightly younger audiences, meaning happy teenage girls. Said aforementioned bra was green with a turtle over the left breast, something that pleased Antonio greatly.

Phase one, the difficult fashion decisions, was over. Now all they had to do was get noticed. This, with the way they were clothed, was not difficult in the _slightest_.

Their first destination was the men's clothing section; that was, if _someone _was there (their soccer game had caused anyone there to scramble away, leaving the section a desert composed of sand dunes made of overturned clothes racks). Luckily, the men's clothing section yielded a perfect platter of victims.

Their first victim was a small, shy looking man who walked with his head down, who was looking at what the three concluded, after much deliberation was a sweater. That shit had sleeves coming out of the ass, and this guy obviously needed their expert advice. Although, with the way they were dressed, it would be an impressive feat if they managed to convince anyone, even someone incredibly fashion inept (such as the man before them) that they were good people to go to for fashion advice. Especially considering they were wearing ridiculous clothes _over _perfectly normal clothes, for Francis, and a variant of their uniforms for Antonio and Gilbert (both of which had been too lazy to open their suitcases before leaving, and had just changed into their spare uniforms). Overall they gave the appearance of thinking the ridiculous clothes were somehow _better _than normal attire.

Never the less, the three were determined to scare poor Wal-Mart goers, and that had to count for **something**. So, walking up to the poor obviously shy man, the three slyly slid up to him. Francis broke into an amazingly shrill female voice.

"Oh _mon_ _Dieu, _you are NOT thinking of buying that _déchets_ are you?!" The horror in his voice was _mostly _faked. After all, he himself still preferred to dress nicely (completely unlike what he was wearing at the moment), and it was one truly hideous shirt.

The man turned to look at them, face already going red. Although because of the French teen's boldness or the fact that he was surrounded by three gender-confused teen's wearing bra's, they would never know.

"I… I was."

"AWWW HELL NAW!" Gilbert broke out into the most ridiculously extravagant female voice he could muster.

"_Girl_, that is just… that's a crime!" Antonio added, drawing out the word 'Girl' so the 'R' was rolled on the tip of his tongue. Francis, suddenly gripped by an idea, ran up to a random rack and grabbed as many shirts as would fit in his hands. Shoving them into the arms of the poor man, who by know was reduced to incoherent stuttering as Gilbert proceeded to give him the most loud, obnoxious fashion lecture he could muster, Francis pushed the man in the direction of the change rooms. Making to enter the change room with him, Francis was not surprised when the man finally found a backbone and shoved him out. They counted five seconds before a voice which was equal parts indignant and afraid filtered through the door.

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Darling, you try them on, of course!" Antonio said, pronouncing 'Darling' like 'Dah-_ling'_, giving the end of the word a slight lift.

"These aren't my size…"

"Just trust us! We're going to make the pain _all bettah_!" Gilbert added.

"T..trust you? You're wearing…. Over your… I can't…" Every time the man tried to form a coherent sentence, words seemed to fail him.

"Do you have a _prob-lem _with how we do things?" Gilbert's voice managed to sound threatening throughout the shrill accent, but the effect was slightly ruined by his grin. But the man on the other side of the door couldn't see that, and the unspoken threat was all too real.

"N-no."

"_Merci._" Francis practically sang the word. After a few moments (and an intense amount of prodding from the trio) the man came out of the change room, dressed in whatever France had shoved in his hands. He really hadn't paid any attention, and that fact was now painfully obvious. The man in front of them was wearing a pair of red jeans (yes, they _do _make those for men) and a pink t-shirt that read _'I'm not gay, just individual'_. The minute they say the blushing man, they had to turn around and bury their heads in each other's shoulders. Gilbert finally managed to stifle his laughter enough to regain his falsetto girl's voice (why were they even _doing _that? They weren't _supposed _to be girls).

"That just looks fabu- _I just can't say it!_" Gilbert found he couldn't finish the sentence, bursting out into laughter and having to be held by Francis. Antonio took pity on the poor man, and pushed him back into the change room, half apologizing, half explaining.

_Later, when they told the story, they found it would be incredibly hard to explain the sheer humor that came from a short man dressed in the oversized clothes of a colorblind _individual_ man. _

After that, the trio decided to make amends, and, still clad in outward bras, decided to buy the man a snack from the in store McDonalds. They were forgiven easily as the short man happily ate.

* * *

_8. Make a trail of tomato juice on the ground, leading to the girls restrooms._

Deciding to be slightly less cruel to the people of Wal-Mart, they actually _purchased _the tomato juice. They had decided to do number eight to make amends for the lack of balls when it came to number five. This one was fairly easy, and, while they only caught glimpses of the horrified faces of females, still left them with the rush of a prank well done.

* * *

_9. While walking around the store, sing in your loudest voice possible sex and candy"_

"…Is that a song?" Neither Antonio nor Gilbert knew the answer, so once again they were forced to tweak the challenge slightly. Instead, they walked around shouted the words 'Sex and candy' as loud as humanly possible in as many accents as possible. It entertained them for quite a while before the security guard found them once again.

This time they were much less discreet (if their previous attempted could even be called that) about their running, instead choosing to laugh and shout, alerting the guard to their presence. Once again they ended up hiding in an incredibly cramped and uncomfortable place, said place being in a tall wardrobe in the furniture section. Once again, the waited for the security guard, trying and almost failing to stifle their giggles.

* * *

_10. Walk up to an employee and tell him in an official tone, I think we've got a Code 3 in House wares," and see what happens._

The last one on the agenda today, and it had better be _huge. _A big finish for their private show. They decided to shed their ridiculous costumes in a bid to look more official. They had a small, sad parting with their tranny attire and bras before walking off (not without remembering the sign they had planned to put), holding each other as they cried fake tears, to find a sleeping employee (someone groggy with sleep was much more likely to take them seriously).

It didn't take long.

A woman was asleep at the cash register, cups of coffee littered on the ground near her.

"The poor thing has probably been working for a week strait." Francis observed, while praying future him had the good sense to get a better job. And less of a caffeine addiction. They poked the girls head, and she didn't move. Moving on, the poked her slightly harder, guilt building in the back of their minds. But teenage humor is enough to overcome almost any amount of guilt, and they pressed forward. Seeing that they would get nowhere with poking, they took to saying her name ('Eric', as read on her name tag) louder and louder. She finally woke up on the cry of "ERIC MY BABY'S DYING!'.

"I-AM-SO-SORRY-PLEASE-DON'T-FIRE-ME-I-NEED-THIS-JOB-BUT-I-FORGOTWHATMYAPARTMENTLOOKS LIKEAND-" Her words fell increasingly fast and jumbled the more she rambled, before Gilbert cut her off, and, with a remarkably serious look (intensified by his crimson eyes), said; "I think we've got a Code Three in house wares."

They had never seen a more horrified face in a Wal-Mart (or any similar superstore) than the face the woman pulled directly following Gilbert's announcement.

"You… You can't be serious! Not the second time this _week_! I'll be fired if it happens again on my shift!"

"_Lo siento, _ma'am, but my partner tells the truth." They could tell Antonio was pulling a surprising amount of bullshit out of his ass (partner sounded so official – yet they doubted Wal-Mart had an underground counterfeit trade), but the fact was lost on the groggy, now fearful woman in her twenties.

"Well, did you ask anyone to clean it?!"

"Clean what _Frau_?" Gilbert asked, with as much authority as he could muster. As if he was _meant _to not know.

"You don't know?" Here, her eyes went wide as saucers, and it was apparent that they would have to finish this fast if they wanted to hold on to any hope of her believing them.

"We're only the messengers, we were told to tell you and make sure you fixed the issue." Antonio's face was surprisingly serious. Francis found himself missing the bright smile he was accustomed to seeing. But he knew they would have to stay in character (once again bringing up the point that he was be a _fantastic _actor) if they were to pull this off.

"But we would _love _to find out what a Code Three is _Madame, _as payment for our services."

"Of… Of course! A Code Three is-" here she dropped her voice to a whisper, forcing the trio to lean close her "-when someone, most likely a child does their… business… on one of the products. Not only that, a Code _Three _means this 'business' was diarrhea! It's horrible! The whole store gets filled with the smell and if someone see's we can no longer sell the product!" It took a while for the trio to digest this. _Shit_. A 'Code Three' was shit. _Constipated shit. _At first the three were unsure of how to react, before mutual face splitting gins spread on their faces. Backing away slowly, the three began to scream.

"SOMEONE'S DONE A SHIT ON THE FURNITURE!" They proceeded to give the sentence a sing-song lilt, and, before the lady could stop them, they ran off, circling the entire store. This, and most probably the lady they had approached, alerted security. Which of course, initiated a chase. This time the lovely people of Wal-Mart joined them; racing to the front entrance, most likely to avoid what they were sure was shit smell but was really just the natural aroma of Wal-Mart.

This time they weren't so lucky. Instead of escaping, they were caught right in front of the entrance. Luckily, the security guard didn't connect them to the vibrant trouble makers from before (their over the top disguises could never fail!) and merely threw them out. The guard quickly turned on his heel and stormed back inside, probably to either fix the 'Code Three' or announce that it had all been a prank. The trio merely sat flat on their asses on the pavement in front of Wal-Mart, smiling at the adrenaline from the prank and not quite sure what to do with themselves. Francis vaguely took note that the cart filled with assorted products was gone. After a few minutes of laborious breathing induced from the chase, he spoke up.

"We really shouldn't have gotten kicked out, _mes amis_."

"_Warum nicht_?"

"I just found out I was going to be living with you after music _et _unless _vous deux _can magically pull food from thin air, we don't have any."

"Oh _mierda, _you just saying 'food' reminds me that I'm starving." Gilbert scoffed, knowing his Spanish friend all too well.

"Since when?"

"Since now." Francis's lips quirked up into a smile.

"Is there anywhere we could get some before 'Tonio here dies of starvation?"

"_Ja, _there's a convince store near school grounds specifically 'for the students convenience'." His tone told Francis the store was anything but.

"The store closes at five thirty today, it's five now, if we hurry we can make it."

"TO THE CAR!" Francis yelled out, a hungry Antonio and a reluctant (he hadn't wanted to _physically move _yet) Gilbert following. Gilbert slid in the driver's seat while Francis and Antonio piled in the back, lying down and using each other as pillows. Gilbert's revenge was to slide the front seat back as much as possible.

The ride was spent going over every detail of their trip to Wal-Mart, and while Arthur still buzzed in the back of Francis's mind (he never really _left_), Francis found he truly did feel better. Such was the beauty of Wal-Mart, Gilbert and Antonio.

… And tranny attire.

* * *

**Well, how did you like it? You can always review and _tell _me~! (please read in sing-song voice) I do have a few things to say about this chapter. **

**1) I AM SUCH A LAZY ASS. BY FRIDAY, I ONLY HAD ABOUT 300 WORDS DONE, SO THIS WAS ALL WRITTEN FRIDAY NIGHT. **

**2) When I have them in Wal-Mart, I realize I go from Francis's POV to a more third person POV. That was intended, I thought it would be better with an overall view of their thoughts. **

**3) I DIDN'T explain Gilbert's richness, lo siento. That was because of the aforementioned lazy ass-dom, so I couldn't fit it in and update when I was supposed to. But I will get RIGHT ON the next chapter, RIGHT NOW, and it WILL include that. I SHALL NOT LET MYSELF SPIRAL INTO THE PIT OF LAZYNESS ONCE AGAIN! **

**4) This was slightly shorter, at 2 300 something words, but I hope you still like it... heh heh... *awkward chuckles* **

**5) Oh. I said the third person thing last time, didn't I? It bears repeating. **

**6) This fic was PREVIOUSLY 'Love, Lust, Friendship, Frenchman and Brits' but I didn't like that title, so it becomes 'The Typical Problems of One Francis Bonnefoy', as it is titled now. In this update. Unless I forgot. In which case, fuck me.**

**7) ****One final note, I am so sorry. I am so fucking immature. Did I REALLY just make a 'Code Three' someone shitting on something? The answer is DA, DA I did. Fuck all. I just really wanted to use the line' SOMEONE'S DONE A SHIT ON THE FURNITURE'**

**Review answer time~! **

**Xylaphe - YOU LIVE IN FRANCE?! You should have seen my reaction when I read that. I jumped up and started dancing and squealing in joy. _I CAN'T BELIEVE MY WRITING GOT OUT OF THE COUNTRY! AND IN FRANCE! _Thank you so much, your review brightened up my day and week, and it means a lot that you took time out of your day to not only review my story, but tell me you agree with my point. So _mulțumesc_~! **

**SylverMidnyte - I... thank you! That is just... thank you so much! I'm really glad you liked it, and I hope you like this chapter just as much. And _ohmygodyourareagenius_! Can I... can I please use that?! That is so wonderful and creative and I love Hungary! Thank you for taking time out of your day to read and review~! **

**Leylani-sama - Really?! I made you laugh so much! WOW, thank you for telling me! I always get this warm and fuzzy feeling when people tell me I made them laugh, because it's something I really like doing! Was it really? THIS, my little story, was the best part of your day? THANK YOU SO MUCH! I hoped you like this chapter as much as the last! You are so right, these three WERE made for each other. The friendship love! And AWWW, you google translated Romanian just for me?! _Multumesc~! _It really DOES mean a lot to me! **

**theangelkneesocks - That review made my week as well. MY WRITING ATTRACTED MY PEOPLE. You managed to work 'fuck' into that sentence. Thank you for taking time out of your day to bless me with a review, and the usage of fuck. I'm really not joking, I love that word. **

**MrGrellMichaelis - _Nici o problema, _about the laptop. Yeah... you might not want people finding this. I can imagine a non-yaoi fan reading this. 'Gay guys... fuck... shit... ass.. gay guys... more swearing... fairy sparkle gay boys...' Yeah... I'm not so kid friendly ;) :P I KNOW RIGHT?! DESTROYING A WAL-MART IS SO COMPLETELY ON MY NON-EXISTENT BUCKET LIST! Once again, _nici o problema _I'm really glad I could make you laugh! YOU HAVE A FRIEND IN AUSTRIA?! I'm sorry for the freakout, I just LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE Austria! The Hetalia country and the place. They're both so beautiful! Anyways, glad I could make you laugh, and thank you for reviewing once again! I love to hear from you~! And I am so so SO sorry for the lack of Iggy-vision, it's all the fault of me and my lazyness. BUT I WON'T DO IT AGAIN, I PROMISE! **

**A huge thanks to all my reviewers/favorites/story alerts/author alerts, you guys are amazing!**

**Madame Perv, perving out (I have a catchphrase!) **


	6. In Which Arthur Gains Roommates

**Here is chapter 6, A WHOLE FUCKING DAY late. I feel like such a dick I am SO, INFINITELY sorry! **

**Warning: Author feels too much like shit to come up with a witty way to say she does not own Hetalia. **

* * *

After leaving Francis's dorm house, Arthur's feelings were even more of a mess than they had started out in, which was most certainty _not _part of the plan.

_You had a plan? _

Arthur ignored the small voice in the back of his head. It was spouting total bullocks anyway. Of _course _he had a plan! He had meant to approach the Frenchman and sort out… whatever it was he was feeling (it didn't matter that he had come up with this plan _after _he stormed off)like a civilized gentleman. But it seemed like the minute he had actually come face to face with the Frenchman, every calm, rational thought had jumped off the cavern that was his mind, leaving him with nonsensical hate.

And it **was **hate. What he had just experienced was an emotion so strong and raw that it could only be loathing in its purest form. The Frenchman seemed to bring out the worse in him with his mere _presence. _That could be nothing but hate… Right? Arthur shook his head. His thoughts were too much of a jumble to dissect at the moment.

_And the fact that he was even thinking about this was preposterous. _There was nothing to dissect! His heightened emotions, lack of self-control and flushed face could only be hate. There was nothing more to it, and_ goddamn it this would be the last time he ever even _considered_ the possibility of it ever being anything else_! With that settled, yet absolutely no peace of mind gained, Arthur decided to find his own dorm.

While he noticed that Gilbert and Antonio were in the same dorm as they were last year, Arthur had been switched to a completely different sector. This conveniently happened to be the same one as Francis's.

Arthur had chosen to show up early to his first day, in favour of staying at home and having to deal with the first day of school early morning battle between his brothers. Who _conveniently _also attended this school (_I swear, it seems like the whole bloody world is conspiring against me_). He had used this extra time to ask the cheerful secretary about his new dorm house and roommates. His dorm was to be the same in appearance as last year (all the outside dorm rooms were the same – so as not to show _favoritism, _what bullocks), but his roommates were to change. Last year he had been placed with an obnoxious (in his opinion) American. This time around, he was to be rooming with two other boys by the names of Niklas Johansen and Vasillica Lupei, the former hailing from Norway while the latter hailed from Romania. While he knew _of _the Norwegian student, he had never met him, and as for the Romanian… he had heard school-wide stories and rumours surrounding him, claiming him to be a vampire. Shaking his head, Arthur scoffed (_What total bullocks. Why would a _vampire _attend a prestigious art school? Wankers and nutters, the lot of them_). The only dangerous thing about that Romanian had to be his legendary fights with the Hungarian girl. Sighing, Arthur pace slowed; he sensed a difficult year ahead of him.

* * *

Arthur heard the noise before he saw the dorm. The louder the nose got, the more his dread grew, and suddenly rooming with the American who was never there seemed like an increasingly good idea. When he approached the dorm, the source of the noise revealed itself to him. Said source was the Hungarian girl (_Elizaveta Héderváry_ - he had seen her a few times in the hall) previously mentioned, and who he assumed to be his new Romanian roommate. He took this moment where he went unnoticed to survey his new roommate. He had strawberry blonde hair, leaning on the ginger side. He was average height, yet still slightly taller than Arthur himself. He was dressed in the school uniform, and while at first glance there was nothing significant about him to set him apart from any random person on the street, the closer Arthur looked, the more exceptional things he found about him. His hair was slightly longer than average, as were his canines (which can't have helped with the vampire rumours). On top of his head sat a small hat, with a red, yellow, and blue ribbon. But the most shocking thing about him was his ruby red eyes. All in all, the more you looked at him, the more quirks you seemed to notice.

His quirky new roommate was currently in the process of screaming insults at Elizaveta, with the Hungarian responding more than enthusiastically. If you could look past the frowns and rage in their eyes, it almost seemed like they were _enjoying _fighting.

_I wonder if that's what Francis and I looked like…_ The thought shocked him as it entered his mind. But the more he observed Vasillica and Elizaveta, the more the thought seemed entirely plausible. _But there's no way I'd enjoy anything involving the frog! So that's the end of _that. Satisfied with his solution to his inner dilemma (for now), Arthur decided to make his presence known. He wasn't surprised when his awkward cough went unheard and the pair continued yelling. A tap on his shoulder caused him to whip around, turning to face a teen who was slightly shorter then himself. Arthur was momentarily caught off guard, but quickly regained his composure. The blonde boy he now stared at wordlessly held out his hand. Arthur grasped the hand firmly in his.

"Arthur Kirkland."

"Niklas Johansen."

"Oh! I'm supposed to be rooming with you this year." The Norwegian didn't bat an eyelash, taking the information in stride.

"Then I apologize in advance." The two fell into silence as they watched Vasillica and Elizaveta attempt to cover the sound of each other's voices with their own shouted insults. A few minutes of this passed before yet another teen approached him. This time it was someone he was more familiar with.

"Hello Roderich." The Austrian nodded, returning the pleasantries. After fulfilling his social duty (Arthur had always respected that about the teen, he was always a perfect gentleman), Roderich sighed and made his way over to Elizaveta. Arthur watched in awe as the Austrian was able to calm the brunette down.

"How the bloody hell did he manage that?" Arthur mumbled, more to himself then anything else.

"When Beillschmidt isn't around to calm Vasil down, Roderich helps us out with Elizaveta." By the way Niklas talked, it was obvious he was more _pleasantly _acquainted with. He was about to reply when the blonde teen cut him off.

"You might have heard, but they fight a lot. If you're going to be rooming with us, I think I should give you a fair warning; you might even be woken up by it on some days." Arthur's eyes widened.

"Do they really fight _that _much?"

"I think I'm even understating it." By now Arthur had started to notice how the boy spoke a monotone, keeping his voice and expression flat. While the two had been talking, Roderich had managed to subdue Elizaveta, and Vasillica had become suddenly aware of the mysterious new member in their group. Before he could say anything, Niklas filled him in, with Arthur simply standing there awkwardly, not quite sure what to do in this situation. It wasn't that he was bad with people, but at the same time he wasn't what you would call _good. _Arthur and people just didn't mix perfectly. _New _people, that is. Luckily, it seemed that the Romanian boy had no such problems.

"Vasillica. _Dar te rog, _call me Vasil." The boy smiled (only placing more emphasis on his abnormally long canines) and held his hand out. Arthur shook it, returning the introductions. Before the introductions could get farther, Elizaveta and Roderich walked up to the trio. Thankfully, Eliza and Vasil contended themselves with merely glaring at each other.

"We were going to head over to Wal-Mart to pick up food. Would anyone like to join us?" Arthur searched his brain desperately for ways to politely decline. An hour or so in a confined space with Eliza and Vasil? From what he'd seen, he'd end up caught in a Wal-Mart isle turf war. Thankfully, Niklas beat him to it.

"No thank you. Vasil still has to settle in." Arthur cocked his head, and, seeing his puzzled expression, the Romanian in question decided to elaborate.

"I tend to get distracted by things I can't remember I packed." This was said with a smile.

"You could at least have the decency to act sheepish about it." Vasil merely laughed, earning an eye roll from Eliza. Before an argument got ensue, Roderich made quick work of leaving. He and Elizaveta set off in the direction of her car, easily settling into conversation. Turning his attention back to the two teens, he found them already making their way to the dorm. Running to catch up to them, he dropped his bag, causing a small black journal to tumble out. Niklas grabbed his bag, while Vasil handed him his notebook. Thankfully, neither boy noticed the way Arthur's breathing sped up when the journal was dropped _open. _He was suddenly incredibly thankful for his neat, yet tiny printing. Before he could continue to ponder the nearly avoided disaster, Arthur was brought out of his thoughts by a brisk shove to his, back with caused him to tumble into the room, after which the door was promptly shut.

The room was identical to what he had seen in Francis's, the only difference being that, thankfully, there were three small beds instead of a single large one. That, and the room seemed more settled into, for lack of a better way to put it. It was obvious the two had been there in the morning from the thick books lying on every available flat surface. Picking up one of the titles in English, Arthur was shocked to find it was a book about folklore. He continued to pick up English titles, finding books on fairy tales, magic, mythical creatures, and just anything else one might want to know on magic. Surprised, Arthur turned to Vasil and Niklas, raising an eyebrow.

"Ah, _da, _we're quite into magic. _Scuze, _we didn't expect a roommate. We'll clean the room…._mai târziu_."

"No, no, I don't mind it. I'm quite into magic myself. I'm just surprised to find someone else is too." Arthur promptly sat down on the couch, launching into a rant on magic and its uses. He was once again pleasantly surprised when both Niklas and Vasil agreed whole heartedly, jumping in with their own suggestions.

* * *

Two hours later their conversation had exhausted itself, and the three were know seated on the couch, each reading a recommended book – they had swapped books about an hour ago, but the conversation had started anew, and the books were left momentarily forgotten. The three had talked about magic to begin with, before falling onto subjects like their personal lives and pasts, and Arthur found that he had less difficulty then expected sharing personal information with the Norwegian and Romanian. It was a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. He had discovered that Niklas attended the school for art (his medium being painting) and Vasil attending for writing, like himself.

Arthur was absorbed in a book analyzing the possible truth behind fairy tales when a pounding came from the door. He made to get up before Vasil beat him to it, opening the door to reveal Elizaveta and Roderich. Surprisingly, Eliza was smiling, and the smile only _slightly _faltered when she saw Vasil.

"Before you say anything, you _have _to hear this." Vasil leaned on the door frame; arms crossed, and raised his eyebrow in a quizzical way – a signal to go on.

"We saw Gilbert, Antonio and that new guy at Wal-Mart!" Arthur's head immediately snapped up at the mention of 'that new guy' who could only be Francis. Not to mention, the excitement in Eliza's voice piqued even Niklas's interest. It had nothing to do with Francis himself, of course. He couldn't care less about what happened to the frog.

"So they need to eat, what a super human occurrence!" Vasil, on the other hand, seemed less than excited.

"Oh fuck off, I'm not here to fight you." Elizaveta, who seemed less then pleased to have to look upon Vasil's face and not punch it from the beginning, blatantly refused to take any shit.

"Oh how beautiful and ladylike the poetry that spills from your mouth is!" Sadly, it seemed that Vasil had the same idea. Before snarky comments could escalate into full blown fighting, Arthur spoke up.

"What was it you were saying before?" Elizaveta's smile (which he know noticed was slightly skewed, and more than slightly sadistic) returned in full force.

"I saw Gilbert, Antonio and…" She trailed off, not wanted to address the blonde she had seen as 'that new guy' once again.

"Francis." Arthur reluctantly filled in; knowing Niklas and Vasil would jump to question him later.

"Yes, Francis. I saw them running around the store in…" But before she could finish, she was cut off by her own laughter and Roderich's chuckles. She tried three more times before giving up and handing her cellphone to Vasil. Whatever was on that screen must have been absolutely bloody _hilarious _because upon seeing it, the Romanian promptly bent over laughing. He even went so far as to lean back to back with Eliza, who, in her laughter, didn't seem to mind. Niklas got up from his place on the couch, taking the phone from Eliza. While he didn't burst into loud laughter, he did join Roderich in chuckling. Arthur, having enough of not knowing what the bloody hell was going, walked up and grabbed the phone. When he saw the photo displayed on the screen, his eyes widened comically and his jaw dropped, before joining the four teens in their laughter.

There, displayed on the screen for all to see, were Francis, Gilbert and Antonio, in quite possibly the most _ridiculous, idiotic, flamboyant _and _horrendous _outfits under the sun. They were just so _terrible _which was what made it so _funny_. Between their giggles, Roderich and Elizaveta managed to bid their goodbyes, with promises to email the rest of the photos (apparently, despite their hate for each other, Eliza and Vasil kept up a daily email correspondence).

"Well, that was odd." Arthur noted, after calming down. After seeing that, he was slightly afraid for the trio of idiots. Roderich had briefly commented _'Someone should really teach them how to properly dress like a woman' _and Eliza's face had lit up (_God knows what she plans to do with them… serves those wankers right_) with such a twisted glee.

Tripping over his suitcase, which it just _now _occurred to Arthur that he hadn't yet unpacked (he subconsciously noted that once again, similar to his previous year here, the suitcase had been brought to his dorm for him), Arthur decided to busy himself with packing, the hilarious site of the _oh-so-smooth _Frenchman in… well… _that, _causing him to hum.

He considered this a point for him, thank you very much.

* * *

**There ya have it. Author's Notes for this chapter, AWAY~! **

**1) It's short and late because I'm a dumbass. I ran into some computer issues, and I couldn't get it out! (ha! that's what she said!) **

**2) I used fan-names for Romania and Norway, because they don't have any official names. **

**3) I really like the name Niklas for Norway. I don't see it a lot, but I don't know, the minute I saw it I just... loved. **

**4) Romania's name was a little harder. There were three options, but I choose Vasillica because it sort of grew on me. I didn't like it _at first _but after a while Vasil was the only possible choice for Romania's name. So if some of you don't like it, I hope you can warm up to it like I did! **

**5) Fuck yeah magic trio! **

**Review answers because Author can't think of anything else to say: **

**Ashe Nightshade - I'd like to start of by saying you have no idea how fucking _happy _this review made me! You wrote a long review telling me what you think, and that makes you an amazing, wonderful person! I know! Getting away with crazy shit would be _the shit _(for lack of better way to say awesome). Yup! Gilly's got a think for everyone's favorite priss! (and so do I. I regret nothing) Fuck yeah Francis is gonna hook up Gil and Roddy! Really? PruAus is my OTP (I have no idea what that means. I shit you not. I only know that it's like a favorite pairing or somesuch. So I guess I know the gist of it?)! So, I hope I can write them well, wish me luck! *fingers crossed* I love Spamano! Since I'm an OTP whore, FrUK, PruAus, Spamano and DenNor are all my OTP's. CAN. NOT. HOLD. ALL. THE. FEELS! Of course the hero's gonna show up! I actually had that part about him rooming with Arthur written in before I read your review, so I'm really glad that someone had the same idea as me! I know! I understand if someone's writing a one shot that their relationship HAS to go fast but I can't write it like that. I just... no. I feel the exact same way, it's too unrealistic! I'M SO SORRY THIS UPDATE TOOK A DAY MORE THEN IT SHOULD HAVE! Merci for the review~! **

**Mr. Grell Michaelis - I'm glad I could induce laughter and thank you, I quite enjoy my catchphrase as well! Really? Moi? A favorite author? You cannot imagine how amazingly happy and overjoyed that made me when I read it. I literally flipped the fuck out. I was just dancing and squealing and shouting incoherent phrases all over the fucking place! Thank you SO MUCH! This means just... an unfathomable amount to me. And I am SO. FUCKING. SORRY this update took an extra day! Please, forgive my sorry ass! I NEED YOU! DON'T LEAVE ME! OHMYLORDFUCK YOU HAVE ACTUAL WAL-MART CODES! That shit is just simply DIVINE! I will love you forever. Thank you so much! (and in case you were wondering, the phrase "kid crapping on stuff" or just "Kid crapping" is absolutely hilarious, and you bet your ass I said it to myself about a hundred times. It just sounds right, y'know? Side note: why would one bet their ass?) Many thanks for the review ~ :D **

**AimIsTalking - I do believe I understand the reference in your name. AIM from comics, by any chance? If not, ignore me! I'm just an ultra-nerd, passing through. I do love my innaproprecy ~ ;) Merci for the love, and the review! **

**SylverMidnyte - Thank you so much for the Hungary idea. I have set down the foundations for the Hungary idea! Yes, he was just some random guy. He will henceforth be referred to as generic shopper guy, and might show up again. He'll be my scrape goat. Every time I need him, he will be there! Sometimes in the form of a woman! Many thanks for the review, and I sincerely apologize that you had to wait a day! **

**Croc'Sushi - Why haven't I answered this review yet? It was wonderful of you to review, yet I didn't reply last chapter, and I am so sorry! It makes me extremely happy to know that someone enjoy's my style of writing, so merci! And THANK YOU. I try really hard to make them in character, so I really hope they are! Da, I had to use google translate for the Spanish, and I SHOULD have used my EXTREMELY BASIC knowledge for the French. But I was a lazy asshole and I didn't. BUT THAT STOPS NOW! You can't imagine how happy it made me to know that my little story got out of the country! So many, many thanks! I'm sorry to keep you waiting on not only this review answer, but this chapter!**

**Well, that's it for now my darlings! I'll be back next week, DEFINITELY on Saturday this time! Once again, I am extremely sorry for bein' a dick and not updating yesterday! **

**Madame Perv, perving out ~ ;) **


	7. A Lovely Little Store

**I am the biggest douche in this planet full of douches. It took me a whole THREE DAYS more to update. I give you full permission to hate me. I hate myself at the moment. **

**Also: ****NO, China will NOT say 'aru' that much, it's just my personal headcannon that it's like a vocal tick, and he uses it more often when he's stressed/hasn't slept properly/consumed a lot of coffee. **

**Warning** - **I WOULDN'T EVEN DESERVE TO OWN HETALIA. I CAN'T EVEN KEEP A SCHEDULE FOR A GODDAMN FANFICTION IMAGINE ME PLANNING EPISODES. **

* * *

When Francis pushed the door to the small convenience store open, the sound of a soft tinkling bell filled the shop. The sound failed to fulfil its purpose when the teen tending the counter didn't even look up – signalling that he hadn't heard the customers come in. He didn't look any older then themselves, in fact, the teen still wore his school uniform, identifying him as a student of HetaWorld Academy. He was sitting behind the counter, legs kicked up to rest on the cash register. His brown eyes were intently focused on PSP in front of him, tongue sticking out of his mouth. He had dark brown, almost black hair, with one gravity defying strand sticking up and curling. The reason behind his ignorance of their presence was a pair of black headphones, splattered with neon green and pink.

"Hey, what's Yong Soo doing here?" Gilbert turned to Antonio. The Spaniard merely shrugged – he had no idea.

"Who is he?" Francis, meanwhile, had a much more basic question. Gilbert and Antonio smiled.

"He's in our year, his brother Yao is in the year above us. From my knowledge, every day after school him and their crazy huge family would head up to the skate park. I've been there with 'em a few times, kid's a good skater." Gilbert filled Francis in, his own confusion seeping into the last sentence.

"Well then, _pourquoi est il ici_?"

"_Amigo, _now I'm not sure why he's here _and _what you said. Please don't add to the confusion." While Antonio and Francis discussed the meaning of the French sentence, Gilbert decided to find out for himself what the Korean boy was doing at the store. But before he could approach him, the door burst open, and Yao Wang, Yong Soo's aforementioned brother, ran in, skidding to a stop in front of the counter. A yank to the boy's headphones snapped Yong Soo out of his video game induced trance (and produced quite an amusing reaction – the boy fell off the chair and flat on his ass with an undignified yelp). Yao muttered something in what Gilbert recognized as mandarin from his many meetings with the family, before shooing the other teen out from behind the counter. The taller Korean boy smiled wide, his loud, boisterous voice filling the store.

"No problem, _eomeoni_!"

"Must you be so loud, aru! You're going to scare away all the customers!"

"What customers, there's no one here!" Yao only shook his head, pointing to the trio waiting at the door, not quite sure what to do with themselves. The teen sheepishly rubbed the back of his head, ruffling the already mussed hair, before turning to Gilbert.

"Hey Yong Soo, you breaking tradition?" The Prussian teen said with a laugh. Yong Soo merely laughed and pulled a skateboard out from where it previously laid discarded behind the counter.

"Nah, I just had to cover the first half of Yao's shift. He had to drive… well everyone." Was the Korean's answer.

"Yes. Yao's right here, Yao can answer for himself, aru!" Came the snappish reply from the Chinese (it was apparent to Francis in his accent, which Gilbert and Antonio had known previously) teen.

"Hey Yao, what's got you strung up today?" Antonio said, innocence coating his voice.

"What do you think?! I have to work a _four hour _shift here before taking another four hourshift over at the Chinese place and I have no time and _AIYAH_!" The teen cut himself off, pulling at his ponytail. He seemed strung tightly, constantly moving behind the counter, whether it be to fasten and refasten his tame tag (which read _Wang, Yao_), to dust the cash register (_"Why would you put your feet there, aru? I have to clean it!"_) or simply to wring his hands. Yong Soo slid up to the trio, before whispering so his brother couldn't hear.

"He's been up since three in the morning, and I'm seriously scared to look at the total price for coffee just for _today._"

"_Por qué_?"

"_Ja, warum_? And why does he have to work so hard anyway." At this the Korean looked down, his wide smile faltering only _slightly_. Still, it didn't go unnoticed by the trio.

"We've just run into some small troubles with money, _geogjeonghaji maseyo_. _Eomeoni_ just has to work for a while; we'll be fine in no time."

"Wouldn't it be faster if you all worked?" Antonio hadn't meant any offence by the question, but Francis and Gilbert still recoiled slightly. Surprisingly, the Korean boy seemed unaffected.

"_Ye_, but_ eomeoni _refuses to let the rest of us work. Says he the oldest, it's his job, don't worry about it." By this time, the Yong Soo's smile was almost diminished, only a faked ghost remaining.

"_Lo siento, _we shouldn't have asked."

"Nah, it's alright. Like I said, it's just temporary." While he still smiled, Yong Soo's eyes had gotten cold and hard; the trio knew better then to pry any further.

"Yong Soo!"

"_Ye, _eomeoni."

"You've done your job; you can go join the rest at the skate park… And stop calling me that, aru!" There was a warning edge to the older Chinese teen's voice, a warning edge that it appeared Yong Soo knew better then to mess with.

"_Ye… hyeongnim_." The sharp look on Yao's face faded into a light smile.

"That's better. And Yong Soo?"

"Hm?"

"_Xièxiè_." At this, Yong Soo's bright smile returned, and he ran back to the counter to throw his arms around Yao. Yao stiffened; face reddening, before tentatively returning the hug. Almost immediately Yong Soo backed away, only to return to hugging his brother, only this time from behind. Yao yelped when his brother's hands grabbed at his chest. Yong Soo let out a laud laugh, seemingly amused by his brother's feminine shriek.

"Aiyah!" Yao swatted at Yong Soo's arms, the laughing Korean not putting up much of a fight.

"Watch where you put your hands, Yong Soo. You're just asking to get bitch slapped…." Gilbert trailed off, remembering his own experience with a certain Elizaveta Héderváry as a child.

"Only to _hyeongnim._" Was the cheerful response, causing Gilbert to snicker slightly.

Throughout all this, Francis had remained silent, merely observing. This was half out of respect for their privacy, and half out of truly not knowing what to do with himself. He shuffled his feet awkwardly, head held down. He was naturally good with people, but he knew when to keep quiet. The discussion itself was a serious one, and while he didn't have all the pieces (and refused to ask, if it was his place, he would be told), he could roughly make out the issue. Luckily, Antonio noticed Francis's lost look and took pity on him.

"Oh hey! Yong Soo, Yao, this is Francis, he's new in our year." Yong Soo smiled his bright grin and Francis responded with one of his own, sticking his hand out. Yong Soo's handshake was quick and awkward, as if he hadn't done something so formal in a while. Nevertheless, the smile never left his face, and Francis had to admit, the beaming, energetic smile was starting to grow on him. Yao merely nodded his head in Francis' direction. Francis, unsure of how to respond to this, continued smiling.

"So Francis, what're you here for?" Francis didn't have to ask what Yong Soo was talking about. At a school like HetaWorld, such a question was usually the first to be put forth.

"Art and music, _et tu_?"

"Music and dance." Francis turned to Yao, cocking his head to the side.

"Art. Do you have a particular medium, aru?"

"_Oui, _sketching."

"_Hyeongnim_'s an art genius, he does all mediums!" Yong Soo seemed quite proud of his brother, who had turned an impressive shade of red.

"Don't brag, aru! It's rude!"

"But I'm bragging about _you_."

"It's still bragging!"

"Well, it is something to brag about." Francis interjected with a smile.

"Ah, I guess… thank you." Yao blushed lightly before giving a curt nod.

"Well, Yong Soo you should be on your way before they start to worry. And be careful!" Yong Soo smiled in his brother's direction, grabbing his skateboard and making to leave without another word. Although he seemed to think better of it as he turned around to give his brother a final salute, throwing the words "Goodbye, _eomeoni_" over his shoulder. Yao returned the shout with a clipped "I am not your mother!" before turning to the trio standing near the front entrance.

"Well? Are you here to buy anything?"

"Ah, _si, _of course!"

"Are they still as expensive as last year?" Gilbert pulled a face only slightly resembling a disgusted duck.

"By 'they' do you mean everything the store has to offer? Because if you do, then yes." While Yao's voice carried only a hint of exasperation, Francis could tell by the annoyed faces of the other three in the room that the older teen was repressed a deep seated hatred for the store and its prices. Francis was immediately reminded of about half an hour ago, when he, Antonio and Gilbert had sat in front of Wal-Mart, contemplating their lack of food.

"Can someone fill me in on the apparent terror of this fine establishment's pricing?" Three heads turned in his direction in one synchronized move. Surprisingly, the telepathy the others seemed to have didn't end there, as they hissed in unison. Francis backed away slightly, but the three teens advanced until he was backed up into a shelf filled with chips. The three didn't stop their advances, despite the fact that over Francis, it was currently raining Lays. Well, air in Lays bags, but his pride still hurt, even if his physical body did not. Antonio moved forward, trapping Francis against the wall, an arm on either side of him, palms splayed flat on the wall. Francis found himself severely missing the bright smile the Spaniard usually wore.

"This is the devils convenience store." Antonio leaned in close to Francis, causing the other teen to gulp. It suddenly occurred to him that there was nothing more terrifying then a normally cheerful person appearing murderous. You _wanted _to trust them, but they looked like pure _evil _yet there was this small part of your mind that still trusted them and you kind of forget to breathe and- _oh my god Toni was right in his face looking like he was going to kill him today was the day he died. _Taking a deep breath, Francis turned his head up, finding himself millimetres away from Antonio (_I never realized how dark his eyes are…_).

"I… I still don't follow." Francis stuttered, more than slightly afraid of what Antonio was going to do to him. Under other circumstances he could see himself liking a bit of pain but something told him that if Antonio _did _do something to him, it would be in an entirely different context.

… Although it occurred to him that there didn't seem to be a reason to harm him in the first place. Of course, when faced with a suddenly possibly violent Spaniard, logic wasn't one of the first things on his mind.

"The owner is what you'd call _cheap_." Gilbert filled in, while Yao scoffed in the background.

"Cheap? _Cheap? _I work four hours a day and come home with _less _than minimum wage!" Francis cocked his head to the side (a gesture he was quite fond of – it communicated what he needed and he enjoyed the feeling of his hair following the movement of his head).

"I came in bleeding one day. He tried to tax me a dollar for every drop of blood on the ground - in addition to the Band-Aid." An idea of why the hatred seemed to be so intensely directed at the shopkeeper was slowly forming in his mind.

"So he tries to get every penny out of students possible?"

"_Si, _and since there's no jobs on campus, we have no way to make money besides going off campus and working for _him_." Antonio practically spat out the word, as if even _referring _to this demon of a man left a bad taste is his mouth. Momentarily distracted, Gilbert turned to Yao, as if Antonio's words had struck a revelation.

"Yao… how are you working? Besides subjecting yourself to the devil, that is."

"I work off campus, and here."

"How do you find the time, _amigo_?" Antonio turned away from Francis, giving him the perfect opportunity to escape. Ducking from under Antonio's arms, he made a show of dusting himself off. Antonio, Gilbert and even Yao made a show of rolling their eyes, but the shadow of a grin appeared on their faces. After a loud, over dramatic sigh and exclamation of 'Am I safe from death now?', he turned to Yao.

"You said you work eight hours a day, even off campus. How do you do it?" Yao, for his part, looked exhausted, and the reminder of his next shift only making him slump farther.

"I _don't _do it! Yong Soo had to take two hours of my shift – I start right after school – today, and throughout the summer I was barely pulling through, aru!" Yao calmly walked back to the counted before simply dropping his head, hitting it against the counter.

"And why am I telling you this?" With that, Yao lifted his head up and the conversation was cut off. Gilbert, Antonio and Francis loaded up on every possible type of junk food they would need. Oh, and food too. By the time they were done, they were loaded down with various bags, so much so that they were struggling to hold it all. When he saw the price, Francis _swore _he could have fainted. Yet somehow, Gilbert, although grumbling, managed to afford it all.

"This way, we won't have to come back here for a while. We were lucky not to see _him_." Gilbert explained, although Francis had to refrain from _politely _telling him that that still didn't explain why he managed to afford a bill that would have taken him _months _to save up for (_Although I _am _used to working less than favourable conditions…._).

"We're lucky. If _he _was here, we wouldn't have enough limbs to carry all these bags." Antonio added. Francis laughed, but after seeing the bill for the days shopping trip, he decided that there may be a base to the mixed fear and hate for the mysterious store owner. After Yao had ushered them out, still grumbling about giving out too much information, Francis turned to the other two teens.

"We are living off this for the next year." Gilbert and Antonio looked at him, confusion evident on their faces.

"We'll ration it off, it'll work." Now with a better understanding of what he was suggesting, Antonio and Gilbert turned to each other, then back to Francis, then back to each other. They repeated this process for a full minute while Francis silently counted the seconds. Finally the two spoke up, in perfect unison.

"Fuck no." Francis shrugged.

"Your money Gil, I'm dirt broke."

"_Si, _me as well."

"Fuck you guys."

"Gladly." Francis quickly retorted. Laughing, the three shoved the almost comically large amount of bags in the trunk of the car. Gilbert playfully shoved Francis in the trunk, causing the other teen to frantically grip the sides. Dusting himself off, Francis shoved Gilbert back. Antonio made quick work of breaking the two apart, shooing Gilbert in the driver's seat.

* * *

The drive was short, and they were soon at their dorm house. Deciding that the swaying of the bags was too good of an offer to pass up, the three spun into the house. Of course Gilbert, who happened to be carrying the lighter bags, ended up smacking both Francis and Antonio in the legs with cans of sixty second pasta. The two victimized teens decided to get revenge on the albino. Gilbert caught the look in their eyes and took off running. The chase ended with Antonio tackling Gilbert, Francis cheering from the hood of the car. When Gilbert brushed himself off, he seemed to come to the conclusion that Francis needed some sort of punishment for his involvement in stopping his escape (Francis had thrown a pillow – knocking the albino to the ground and ruining the pillow which, it would have done him well to know, was school property). Scrambling on the hood of the car, he made a pass at Francis, who rolled out of the way and landed unceremoniously on the ground. While Gilbert laughed and Francis pouted, Antonio used the trunk to climb onto the roof of the car. Gilbert and Francis saw this, and this is how their grocery shopping trip ended in them contemplating life on the roof of a car.

This is how Roderich and Elizaveta found them, a good twenty minutes later.

* * *

**I am a despicable human being. But I don't have time to wallow in self-pity, because I must tell you a few things about this chapter. **

**1) Ooohh did I just fail at creating a mystery? Why yes, yes I did. I will elaborate on what's going on with the Asian family. It will involve different POV's and everything! **

**2) I feel like I fucked up on the POV in this chapter. I apologize for putting you through that!**

**3) It's my personal AU headcannon that the Asian family meets at a skatepark every day after school. Once again, more on that later. **

**4) I apologize, the time line is just everywhere right now. The last chapter started from right after Francis left Arthur, and THIS one started slightly before Eliza and Roddy went to see Arthur and his new roomies. Time snaps back into normal right around now, where Roddy and Eliza have just left Arthur and immediately went to see Francis, no more voodoo mystic time shit. **

**5) The first thing Yong Soo (Korea) calls Yao is 'mother' and when he's asked to change he switches to 'big brother' and then back again that last time just to piss Yao off ;) **

**6) YES, THEY ARE SPEAKING IN KOREAN AND MANDARIN (also known as Chinese). I don't understand why people copy and paste the symbols, when the words is spelled out using the English alphabet RIGHT UNDER IT. REALLY PEOPLE. HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO READ KOREAN AND CHINESE CHARACTERS. YOU FUCKING TELL ME. That aside, if you do happen to do that, just shift your eyes under the box where it will have the word written out in an alphabet that we English speakers can actually under-fucking-stand. **

**7) And da, I WILL have them actually meet with the douche-y convenience store owner.**

**8) In case no one read the top, NO, China will NOT say 'aru' that much, it's just (once again) my personal headcannon that it's like a vocal tick, and he uses it more often when he's stressed/hasn't slept properly/consumed a lot of coffee. **

**Onto review answers! **

**MapleRevival - Oh my god it's you. OH MY GOD IT'S YOU. YOU. Okay, I should probably explain. I am currently stalk- WATCHING - your story and your writing is amazing and having you say such nice things to me i just...! I think I'm going to explode. I can die happy now. So many thanks! I'm really glad I could make you laugh! I hope you enjoy the rest of this story, and I deeply apologize for possibly creeping you out. :D **

**GreekPeek - I can excuse your skipping, but can you excuse my happy dancing? Because I can't dance like a human being. Really. I dance like a decapitated chicken. :) That random note aside, thank you for the review! It makes me really happy to know you're enjoying my little story!**

**AimIsTalking - Oh... he he... whoops! Then just ignore that... Marvel fangirl coming through... I know! I just LOVE the magic trio! In the next chapter, I have the PERFECT bonding activity for them~! ;) Then I guess that makes me sadistic for writing it? ;) I DID recently go on a yaoi smut marathon, but don't worry! This is rated T so the hardest yaoi in here will be heavy kissing. Because I can't write smut worth shit... Anyways! I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME THIS LONG. I AM A TERRIBLE PERSON. **

**Deanna - Ah, thank you! I was guessing something along those lines. I mean, I knew what it MEANT I just didn't know the exact meaning word for word. And da, I am aware that that makes no sense. -_- Of course I will focus on PruAus! I don't plan to make this story go fast, so everyone's most probably going to hook up before Francis and Arthur. Because you know they're just so stubborn ;) Don't worry, I do have a slight outline for how this is going to work! Hmm, crying Gilbert. I do think I could work that in, because I have to admit, I love the idea ^_^ Oh don't worry, I DEFINITELY plan to do chapters from other character's POV, considering all the pairings I plan to fit in here... heh heh... Anyways! Multsumesc for the review, and for reading! **

**Katt42 - Many thanks! Da, I've noticed that too. I guess a lot of people writing BTT fic's ship PruCan. And then there's me ;) Yup, I LOVE PruAus. Really THIS little thing? Thank you so much! And thank you for reviewing and reading!**

**SylverMidnyte - It... It was? Well shucks! Many thanks! Yup! I'm bringing in EVERYBODY :D ;) I... thank you! And I love YOU for reading and reviewing, so many thanks! **

**Whelp, that's all! See you all next chapter! **

**Madame Perv, perving out**


	8. Roderich's Narration

**So here I am, EXACTLY a week later, on a Wednesday once again, with chapter 8. **

**Warnings: Do I own Hetalia? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA FUCK YOU. **

* * *

The arrival of Elizaveta and Roderich went unnoticed by the trio. Elizaveta looked ready to interrupt the three (_What the hell were they even doing on top of a car? They were going to fall and shake loose their remaining brain cells) _but Roderich decided to stop her. They instead crouched behind the car, in the trio's blind spot. Elizaveta, unused to Roderich's impromptu social misconduct (unused to the proper Austrian doing _anything _even remotely against social protocol, actually), merely let her eyes widened, a soft gasp leaving her through. Other than that, she decided to see where this lead.

Roderich, for his part, was fully aware of the rude act he was committing. But _really _did it count as spying? If the trio hadn't noticed their arrival, and they merely neglected to mention their presence, it really only counted as ignorance on the part of Gilbert, Antonio and the blonde student the two seemed to have taken a liking to. Satisfied with his reasoning, Roderich strained to hear what the three were talking about.

"Do you think we're here – on this plantet I mean – for a reason?"

"Ohh Francis gets deep at five o clock."

"_Non, _Gilbert, I'm series. What if us, lying here on this car, leads to something like… _mauvais_."

"And Francis loses all traces of deep merely seconds later!" Roderich heard a chuckle, followed by a womanly screech, which Roderich was _more _then please to identify as Gilbert's. He found himself having to stifle his giggles with a palm, not embarrassed in the slightest at making such childish sounds in front of Elizaveta (an old friend who was in turn doing everything she could to hold her own laughter in – the supposedly 'awesome' Gilbert squealing was ever an amusing occurrence), but trying desperately to not get caught (_This is completely dignified… until we're found out_).

"Francis, dude, _not awesome_! I could have _died_. And then you'd feel guilty." The new boy (who he assumed was Francis) and Antonio chuckled, while Gilbert let out what sounded like a choked huff of annoyance. Roderich could just _see _him pouting. Sighing, it only just occurred to him that he knew the self-proclaimed Prussian much too well.

It also occurred to him that he should _not _be finding the mental image of a blushing albino _cute _in any way and that certain thoughts needed to leave his mind _now_. Shaking his head violently, he drew the attention of Elizaveta. Eliza opened her mouth, then rapidly closed it, silenced by the sudden rambunctious laughter from the trio (_really now, laughing on a car roof. I simply _can't _believe I ever doubted their intelligence!_). Whatever the cause, he had been too caught up in his musings to hear it. Eliza looked at him, a glance that he knew all too well and as of recently he received all too often. There was a small part of his mind that insisted on reminding him that that glance was only sent his way in the presence of their mutual albino friend, but that part was quickly squashed by his impressive mountain of denial.

Sighing as he took Eliza's 'the-gay-is-strong-with-this-one' stare (as he had named it after Gilbert had forced him into a Star Wars marathon which he had regrettably enjoyed for most likely _entirely _different reasons then the albino he had been snuggling against since halfway through movie one) he once again battled internally on whether to accept the fact that it _was _denial and do something about it, or continue to live day by day facing internal battles on whether it was there or not.

'It' being undeniable attraction and quite possibly _feelings _centered around a certain Gilbert Beillschmidt. It was getting increasingly tempting to bash his head against the readily available surface of the car. Before he could raise the suspicions of his brunette friend even _more _their attention was demanded by a sudden argument in Spanish, French, and German. Roderich, from what he could gouge from Gilbert's side of the conversation, realized that the trio were attempting to see if they were 'bro-pathic' a form of telepathic which allowed 'bros' to understand the language of other bros despite the user of the 'bro-pathy' not speaking it initially (_Which is obviously quite a step up from discussing the meaning of life_). Needless to say, it wasn't working and the three were just shouting at each other in their individual languages.

"Well that didn't work."

"Francis you're just a fucking genius today, aren't you?"

"Whose idea what it to try _bro telepathy_?"

"You're saying it wrong, it's bro-pathy."

"It's a legitimate idea." The new blonde teen and Antonio (who had just been watching) burst out laughing, completely ignoring Gilbert's indignant shouts. The laughter dissolved into what must have been a peaceful silence for the trio, but was nothing more than a waste of time to those who were spying on them. Roderich was already starting to get cramps from crouching while Elizaveta had decided keeping her uniform clean wasn't worth it and had just sat down on the grass (_Although, with the way the clean here, she shouldn't get much of anything on her skirt…_). Giving a curt nod to Elizaveta the two stood up, not in the least surprised when the trio didn't register their presence. A smile stretched on Eliza's face, the type of smile Roderich knew well enough to stay away from.

Taking a step back, he watched as Eliza leaned as close to the trio as she possibly could before screaming as loudly as she possibly could. This was met with a rewarding screech from all three teens, who jumped in surprise. Antonio had the good sense and reflexes to land on his feet after sliding off, making to catch a rapidly falling Frenchman. Roderich stepped forward to catch Gilbert, but mere seconds after catching the albino, realized he was quite heavy. Deciding that dropping a few feet wouldn't be quite as harmful as dropping from the roof of a car, Roderich dropped the albino, earning a yelp of pain (he tried to be remorseful, but it wasn't every day their roles were reversed like this).

"Hey priss what's your fucking problem?!"

"What's your fucking _weight_?" The words were out of his mouth before he could control them, something that did not happen often. Eyes widening, Roderich lifted a hand to cover his mouth, as if that could stop the words. It wasn't that it was abnormal for him to _think _things like this, but he prided himself on being able to refrain from _saying _them (an ability he knew Gilbert did not possess). He was about to open his mouth and apologize when the idiotic albino _smiled. _And then proceeded to _laugh_. Roderich just stood there, dumbfounded, not really registering Eliza's smirk or Antonio's shock. When Gilbert finally collected himself, he walked up to Roderich, putting an arm around his shoulder.

"Well priss I didn't know you had it in you!"

"Had _what _in me?" This was met with muffled giggles from the trio and Eliza.

"Must you be so uncouth?"

"Awww but Roddy, I thought you were just starting to loosen up!" Roderich decided not to humor him with a response, counting on the albino to fill the pause with mindless chatter. Gilbert did not disappoint.

"So why are you here anyway?" Roderich's eyes lit up, and he didn't have to look to know that Eliza was sporting the same expression he now wore (although undoubtedly more outwardly gleeful). Although even he couldn't have supressed the smirk that came with remembering what they had seen while out shopping.

"Well you see Gil, we had to buy groceries today..." Eliza started, breaking off and dissolving into a fit of laughter.

"And as we all know we couldn't go to the store on campus, so we decided to head over to _Wal-Mart_." The second Roderich said the words, the trio paled, eyes widening in horror. Gilbert managed to squeak out a high pitched noise resembling a laughing chicken before Eliza seemed to have recover enough to finish the story, and Roderich thought it would be best to let her take it from there. He was not disappointed. She proceeded to explain every detail of what they saw. By the time she was done, the three had cringed so much, they had practically curled in on themselves. It took quite a lot of self-restraint not to laugh. But Eliza was far from done. She then proceeded to explain exactly _why _the particular female clothing choices were horrendous. Roderich found himself inserting his own fashion criticisms, much to the apparent horror of trio.

"We're going to have to teach you the proper way to dress." Gilbert scoffed, and Roderich predicted his words before they were spoken.

"I think I _know _how to dress."

"Obviously not." Roderich replied, internally cringing. Gilbert looked ready to protest, but was stopped in his tracks by Eliza's glare.

"Clear up your weekend boys, this Saturday we cross-dress!" Roderich observed the three varying reactions to Eliza's statement. Gilbert blushed a deep red, horror the prominent emotion on his face (paralleling Roderich's own excitement). Antonio had the good sense to fake worry, but he could tell the teen was slightly excited (most likely at the prospect of humiliating Gilbert (the two had more scores to settle then he cared to remember. He supposed it was a given with them). The blonde (who he supposed he should give up and start mentally referring to as Francis – no use in pretending he didn't know the boy's name in his own mind) on the other hand, seemed to be in deep concentration. Although what deep life meanings one could extract from cross-dressing, he didn't know. They each opened their mouths in almost perfect sync (either to offer an argument or encouragement), but were quickly silenced by Eliza, who turned to face him.

"Well, that's our business here done, we have plans to make!" Roderich was dragged off by an excited Eliza, glancing back to lock eyes with Gilbert once more. When a blush threatened to colour his face, he pulled his gaze away, determined not tip off Gilbert in the slightest as to his _feelings._

* * *

Francis watched Gilbert stare at the retreating brunette boy. He hadn't been paying much attention to the actual conversation (something about girls' clothing?), but rather the interaction between Gilbert and Roderich. He had observed several key things. Gilbert seemed determined to get as close to the Austrian as possible, while the other teen unconsciously glanced toward the albino frequently. It seemed that each other's presence commanded the others attention. Francis could _definitely _understand what attracted Gilbert about the Austrian, but it seemed to truly be more than that. For _both _of them. Gilbert had mentioned something about the brunette hating him, but whether today his heart just wasn't in it, it was quite obvious that most of his supposed 'hatred' for the albino was half-assed, at best.

Overall, from what he could tell, Gilbert had quite a good shot. But he could also tell both teens were much too stubborn to make this easy on him. Smiling, he silently accepted the challenge, clapping his hands together.

"Now, what was that about?" Judging from the blank looks he received, the conversation he had missed was something important. Shrugging his shoulders, he had good sense to be slightly sheepish, rubbing the back of his head with his hand, shaking his hair out of the tie that he was amazed had held on this long.

"Dude, she said she was going to make us wear _girl clothes_! How do you miss something like that?!" Gilbert seemed fairly shaken up, while Toni placed a consoling hand on his shoulder, grinning far too wide to share Gilbert's opinion (obviously horror). While they worked together to explain the terrifying conversation to him (occasionally stepping over each other's words to get their share in), the realization started to sink in. Elizaveta (an apparent old friend of Gilbert – he would have to analyze that information later, it might cause problems) wanted to dress the trio as girls. Real, honest to god, not for the laughs girl clothing would be worn. By them. The MANY ways this could be used against them were not lost on him.

"And knowing Eliza, she's going to want to parade her achievement." Gilbert groaned, dropping his head in his hands.

Trying to distract himself (and Gilbert, who looked dangerously close to an emotional breakdown) from the fact that he was soon going to model skirts for a girl of questionable morals (all from what he'd heard, he'd have time to form his own opinion later), Francis smirked and wrapped his arm around Gilbert's shoulders.

"So, well me more about your love for Roderich." Gilbert groaned while Antonio laughed.

"You're worst then Eliza!" Yet the albino proceeded to launch into a detailed speech of praise centered around the Austrian. Praise that sound alarmingly similar to insults, but praise nonetheless.

… Somewhere along the line he would figure out why Antonio seemed so happy about this.

* * *

**So that was THAT chapter, done mostly in Roddy-kins POV. Only a small acceptance of feelings here, but Franny is sure to help with that ;) ^_^ Things about this chapter: **

**1) It's painfully short at only 2 100 something words. UGH. AH. NO. I am not happy with myself. **

**2) I don't know I think Gilbert would be sappy. Like, major sappy. Think bucketloads of maple syrup from tree sap sappy. Because _come on. _Cannon Gilbert is such a goof and I love him for it :) **

**3) I can't think of a single fucking thing more to say about this.**

**4) Oh! And Wednesday is actually a good update day for me. I can write on both weekend days, which means I can write later into the night (when I do my best writing, I hope) so I do believe I will update on Wednesday from now on. Yes, quite. **

**Since my brain seems to have shut down, onto review answers. **

**Katt42 - That's a very good idea actually! And I can see why you'd think that, but I plan to make the main Hetalia cast all students, lo siento! Still, I realize I wrote it oddly similar. Anyways, many thanks for dropping by to review, it's much appreciated! :) **

**MapleRevival - Yeah. That was a um... Impressive over reaction on my part. Fucking _wonderful _job self! I am, really? Well shucks! It really does mean a lot, so many thanks! Merci, I just love the idea of the Asian's getting together after school to skate. Ionno it just really appeals to me. There will totally be a chapter on that later. Most definitely. I'm just dying to write it and I'm getting ahead of the story and NOOOOO. Many thanks, I'm glad Yao came off well, because I absolutely adore him~! I know, but I just had to hint at conquistador Spain because yes. Just yes. ;) But I could never kill Francis. My heart would shrivel up and die. Hehe make glorious yaoi. ^_^ Really? Then I have to write that scene well, wish me luck! Of course I like your writing, it's fabulous! I don't know the image of them on the roof of Ludwig's car was too good to pass up ;) Because you KNOW he'll bitch about dents. Love ya, Lud! It- It is? Multsumesc! Many thanks for stopping by and reviewing! Means a lot to little old me~!  
**

**theangelkneesocks - Well, thank you for taking it up again! I'm glad you liked it! Once again, means a lot when you review, so merci ~ :D**

**That'll be all from me today m'dears, but I'll be back next Wednesday! (I am so sorry for switching days on you like that, I hope the next chapter will make up for it!) **

**Madame Perv, perving out **


End file.
